#as gold as the ginkgo trees

[localplaguenurse]

Now I come into your ask with my usual deranged horniness//HIT

You've done the wifey seeing their past self bc ley line anomalies but consider.... wifey meeting past Morax

Do I want wifey to be sandwiched by Morax and Zhongli and this is my excuse? .....Maybe

wasxdfcghvhjbj but fr imagine past Morax being like, so this is life after winning the archon war (or even retiring from archonhood) hmmm and being so smitten with wifey like damn future me scored I want them <3

(Wifey can barely handle ONE Morax let alone two)

This has not been beta read. Also read prev leylines fic for context because I'm treating this as a part two.

Few mortals travel to Guili Plains these days. It's been a few decades since blood was last shed here, as it's been a few decades since the end of Liyue's Archon War. By now, new plant life has already begun to prosper, though the land still bares noticeable scars.

You're fortunate enough that your body is still youthful, if only because the body of a twenty-one year old can walk off a rough trip better than a fifty-three year old's. The grass is lush enough that any old cuts in the ground are obscured, making for some pretty frequent tripping hazards. You're glad you wore your painting attire, as it would kill you to get grass and mud stains in your nicer clothes.

You've talked with Morax a handful of times about Guili Plains, notably if he was comfortable with you or your children exploring it as you know this place holds a lot of his memories, good and bad. He has told you he is okay with you exploring, so long as you're careful and let him know when you'll be back. You've yet to have any issue with his conditions, save for maybe being careful, but it's not your fault that there are so many hidden cracks and gashes that you always stumble at least once when you visit.

Picking your various pencils and brushes up out of the grass, you look up and pause.

Of course you recognize the figure ahead of you, resting next to a large boulder. What shocks you, though, is the state he's in. The white of Morax's cloak is stained red, as is the tip of the polearm propped up next to him. You freeze up, a hand covering your mouth, before you quickly make your way over to him. What is he doing here. Why is there blood? How much of it is his? What happened?

"Morax?!"

His head snaps in your direction, and something about the harshness in his face stops you in your tracks. He's never given you this look, not once. You've seen him upset and angry but not like this. He stands up, and when he steps forward, he towers above you.

He tilts his head, and though he seems irritated over your intrusion, he also seems... confused?

You snap out of it and step forward, grabbing one of his arms. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He pulls his hand back immediately, taking a step back. He stares at you, almost bewildered, before a smirk cracks across his face.

"Aren't you a bold little mortal..."

The growl in his tone sends a shiver up your spine. You open your mouth to say something, but then you absorb his words.

Bold little mortal.

You two have been married for going on thirty years now, and have had a brood of five children now. He doesn't refer to you as a "mortal," but by a slew of more endearing pet names. Not only that, but he's never taken an almost patronizing tone with you like this.

It clicks.

This isn't your Morax.

Well, not yet. You have a flashback to the incident at the monastery, where you had comforted your former self. To have Morax first and foremost not recognize you, but also refer to you as a little mortal is indication enough of this. Not only that, you can see he has fewer scars on is body, and the ones he does have seem fresher. Whatever happened at the monastery is happening again.

Morax leans down, seemingly amused by your bewilderment. "Hm? Oh, has the cat caught your tongue, or however you mortals use that phrase? You were so confident in approaching me, so what's changed?"

You clear your throat, and you consider how you want to phrase this explanation. I mean, this is just a memory of Morax, seemingly. You don't have to interact with him, but you also want to.

You figure it's better to get this out of the way.

"I'm your wife."

"..."

Morax tilts his head back and quite literally roars with laughter. You feel it thundering in your chest as he hollers. He wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling, before he grins down at you.

"You are quite possibly the most confident or most foolish mortal I've yet to meet," he says, "and I truly must thank you. I haven't heard a joke like that in years."

You sigh, turn around, and move your hair away from your neck to expose the mark he left there. "I don't quite know how to explain this," you tell him, "or why you are here, but you're a younger version of my husband, and I am your future wife." You let your hair back down and turn to him. "W-We got married near the end of the Archon War, and you claimed me maybe a year later."

Morax looks you over, analyzing your attire, your figure. He circles you, like a wolf sizing up its prey, taking in every detail of your appearance.

"While I admit that you are a rather pretty little thing," he purrs, "I hope you take no offence when I ask why I would marry a mortal woman."

"There's a small village, it's maybe a week's travel north from Mt. Tianheng," you explain, "it has an even smaller monastery. It has an orchard full of ginkgo trees and a shrine dedicated to you. There's a seal put in place to keep the village safe from demons and the Archon War."

Morax pauses.

You continue. "The shrine was broken, and since I was shrine caretaker, the blame was put on me. My abbess..." You look down at your feet. "My abbess gave me to you as payment to fix the seal... You... You would later on kill her for mistreating me all my life."

"... How?"

"You turned her to stone," you say, "and then shattered her body like pottery."

"Hm... I admit, that does seem like something I would have done," he says, "and your knowledge on the shrine lends credence to your story. Still, I have difficulty believing you could be my little wife."

"Why is that?"

He chuckles. "You're very small compared to me. Most mortals have difficulty handling my... form, so I highly doubt you would fare well..."

You blush, but find yourself chuckling with him. You cross your arms. "Considering I've given you five children, I think I handle you very well."

It's Morax's turn to be surprised. "Five...?"

"The last pregnancy was twins," you tell him. "We have two sons, three daughters. They called you baba, and some of them still do. Our oldest, Yānjiáng, calls you father nowadays."

"You gave me... five children?"

"I can show you the stretchmarks."

Morax's face is void of emotion as he considers your words. He stares at your face, looking for any sign of dishonesty or perhaps delusion. Surely, you must be delusional, approaching the Warrior God like this, with no fear and claiming to be his future wife and mother to his five children. He doesn't find any, which is even more bewildering.

After a moment, he smiles. There's still something slightly mocking to it, as though he thinks you're lying, but there's a softness to his expression as he regards you.

"You weave an interesting and truly unbelievable story, little mortal," he states, lifting you chin with clawed fingers, "though I must admit, I'm intrigued. I suppose I will have to find you in the future to see if your story holds any merit."

Morax leans down to kiss your forehead. When his lips disappear, so does he, along with his bloodied polearm. You touch your forehead, and still feel his lips lingering on the skin.

The encounter leaves you with artist's block, simply unable to focus on recreating the scenery. You gather your thoughts and things, and begin to head home. You weigh in your head if you want to tell your Morax about the encounter, if he'll believe you at all. You know he trusts you, but that's still a strange claim to make.

... You're definitely going to ask him to do the growl voice more, though.

[localplaguenurse]

Okay but it did only end like five months ago and was literally a straight up novel, plus I keep feeding you ginkgo content whenever I'm asked. We're enabling each other.

hyperfixations are so crazy because you never know whether this next thing you like is going to be a short-term interest or if it's going to change your entire life forever

[geopsych]

It’s ginkgo time!

[welcometoteyvat]

 xingqiu, gold accents, ginkgo leaves, the light golden color tea gets in sunlight

hu tao, also gold accents, mahogany wood, smoky things, spider lilies unfurling in the dark. but it would be cool to edit her art so it’s more high contrast (darker outfit and hair) with stark black plum branches against winter snow 

chongyun, white, clouds, wisps of chill wind. fluffy things and a big fur coat

majority red palette ningguang would also be cool

and of course, zhongli with gold orange. old man can’t beat the geo lord cor lapis soulmates (ambiguous relationship) with azhdaha allegations

[hiddendesignsgb]

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[localplaguenurse]

Nun gets sold to one direction their god, actually thrives with his guidance now that they're away from their evil grandma

Writers, tell me about your story in the dumbest way possible

I’ll go first:

Superhero princesses save the world with the help of that one straight white guy who’s just happy to be here, couldn’t have done it without the fortune of a white woman defying all the odds by deciding against a gender reveal party

[thehighpriestess1]

Make a wish: New beginnings

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Gojo x y/n, Nanami x y/n

Warnings: Angst, Mentions gun, Su!c!de mention

Ask Box | Previous Chapter | FIC Masterlist | Other works

A wide smile was plastered on your face as you pedaled through the streets, the wind playfully tousling your hair. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, casting golden hues on the pavement. You had always loved mornings like these—crisp air, a clear sky, and an exhilarating sense of new beginnings. Today was different, though. Today wasn’t just any morning; it was the start of a new chapter. The excitement coursing through your veins was undeniable, and nothing could have dampened your energy.

As you maneuvered through the familiar streets, you made sure to greet everyone you crossed paths with—a nod to the elderly woman tending to her potted plants, a cheerful wave to the café owner who was arranging fresh pastries in the window, and even a quick “Good morning!” to the jogger you always saw on your morning rides. It felt surreal to be here, to be moving forward after all those years stuck at Domain. That lingering “what if” that had haunted your thoughts was finally being answered. The uncertainty that had once held you back no longer had any power over you. Today, you were stepping into something new, something filled with potential.

You soon arrived at your destination, your heart beating with anticipation and excitement. As you parked your bike and took off your helmet, your eyes locked onto the building in front of you. It was breathtaking—modern yet distinctly Japanese-inspired, exuding both elegance and tranquility. The Golden Ratio logo was carved in gold, standing out against the dark wood facade, almost as if it were welcoming you into its world. Wooden slats were arranged in a structured yet artistic pattern, allowing glimpses of the warm, ambient lighting from within. The entrance walkway was lined with ginkgo trees and occasional black pine, their lush greenery blending harmoniously with the refined architecture. It felt like a place that had been designed not just for work, but for inspiration.

As you stood there, admiring the building and absorbing the reality of your new job, a movement caught your attention. A young man, dressed in a crisp white shirt and loose black-lined pants, approached you with a polite smile. His black lanyard bore the company’s logo, and dangling from it was his ID card. You quickly read his name—Hitoshi.

“Y/n?” he asked, his voice warm and respectful.

“Yes…” you replied, adjusting your bag strap.

“I am Hitoshi! I am here to escort you to the office. Nice to meet you!” He bowed slightly and extended his hand forward.

You returned the bow before shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too. This is a… lovely place.”

Hitoshi chuckled nervously. “Yes. Nanami-san loves nature, and he was very adamant about maintaining this walkway.”

“I see,” you murmured, clasping your hands in front of you as you followed him through the large screen doors.

“I’m really happy you joined our firm,” Hitoshi continued as he walked beside you.

You giggled. “Me too.”

His enthusiasm seemed to grow as he spoke. “When I saw your portfolio, I knew I wanted to work with you! Your projects are so creative and witty. They make people think and create an emotional connection between the product and the customer. It’s so clever!”

“Oh… I’m glad you think I’m clever.” You chuckled, feeling both flattered and slightly amused at his excitement.

Hitoshi’s eyes practically sparkled as he went on, like a child who had just met their favorite superhero. “I asked Nanami-san to place me in your department. I will be your junior, and I have so much to learn from you! I’m just an undergraduate student, but this is my third summer internship with Golden Ratio. I’m determined to work here full-time one day. Please feel free to make me run around as much as you want—I am at your service!”

His sincerity made you smile. It was rare to see such enthusiasm so openly displayed, and it reminded you of when you first started out—brimming with ideas, eager to prove yourself, and ready to soak up every bit of knowledge you could find. It was endearing to see that kind of passion reflected in someone else.

“Well, Hitoshi,” you said, looking at him with amusement, “I hope you don’t regret saying that.”

He laughed. “Never! I mean it. I want to be useful, so please don’t hesitate to give me tasks.”

You nodded, appreciating his enthusiasm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you walked deeper into the building, the serene atmosphere embraced you. The scent of cedarwood lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea. The walls were adorned with minimalist art—subtle brush strokes that depicted landscapes and abstract designs. Everything about this place felt carefully curated, balancing modernity with tradition.

Hitoshi led you down a sleek hallway, stopping in front of a door with your nameplate already mounted on it. Seeing your name there, officially part of Golden Ratio, sent a thrill through you. This was real. This was happening.

“Here we are,” Hitoshi announced, opening the door for you.

You stepped inside, taking in the cozy yet professional space—large windows letting in natural light, a tidy desk waiting for you, and a small bookshelf already stocked with materials. A new beginning.

Turning to Hitoshi, you grinned. “Well then, let’s get to work.”

He beamed. “Yes! Let’s!”

And with that, your journey at Golden Ratio truly began.

His excitement made your laugh. It was pure innocent excitement to do something creative and it resonated with you. Hitoshi tapped his card and opened another screen door for you. 

Compared to the facade, the interiors had modern design. However the decor was traditional Japanese and the common areas looked like a traditional tea house engulfed by a modern cafe. 

“Where do I get my ID card from?”. You asked Hitoshi as the two of you entered the elevator.

“Oh yes! I have it ready for you in your cabin. I was so excited to meet you. I didn't want to waste time at the HR”. Hitoshi admitted and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Nanami-san is at a client meeting but he will meet you after lunch. He always makes time to meet each new employee. He is my idol! My final year design project is based on his design principle. Oh by the way, I am a product designer. Well a product design intern for now”.

You nodded and smiled. His childlike enthusiasm reminded you of your brother. “I am sure you are very talented!”.

The elevator doors opened to a courtyard surrounded by glass walls. The stone walkway was lined with tiny bonsai trees and koi ponds on either side. 

Hitoshi pointed upwards,”The roofs of this open area are retractable. When it is too sunny or raining we bring them back up! And we can even adjust them to allow as much light as we want. Today is a pleasant day so even the fishes get to enjoy it”

“This is one the most beautiful offices I have ever seen!”. You admitted. The atmosphere throughout the office felt tranquil. 

As you followed Hitoshi through different corridors you noticed the walls lined with framed awards and recognition. However you didn’t see a single photo with Nanami alone. It was always with a team and he was standing on the side. 

“This is your office!”. Hitoshi opened a glass door and smiled widely at you.

You stepped inside and took a deep breath. This was a new start to your life. 

The office itself was smaller than your older office, if you can even call it your previous office, But it was well lit and felt welcoming. The office cabin exuded a sense of tranquility and refined simplicity, blending traditional Japanese aesthetics with modern functionality. Bathed in warm, golden sunlight filtering through expansive shoji-style windows, the room felt open yet intimate. The wooden ceiling, adorned with exposed beams, added a rustic charm, while the polished wooden floor enhances the space’s elegance. At the heart of the room stood a sleek yet minimalist wooden desk, accompanied by a modern ergonomic chair. Above the desk, a delicate hanging lamp casted a soft glow, complementing the natural light. 

To the left, a sliding wooden lattice door led to another section of the office, maintaining privacy while preserving the openness of the space. Against the far wall, a scroll featuring traditional Japanese ink painting hung gracefully, adding a touch of cultural depth. A carefully placed bonsai tree in the corner breathed life into the room, reinforcing the connection to nature. 

As you made your way around the desk and ran your fingers along the edge of the chair you noticed that you could see the main lobby clearly from your chair. Hitoshi noticed your observation and walked over to the side of the desk, “If you want privacy then you can press this button and the glass door will become opaque”. He pressed a small button under the desk and the glass door became opaque in an instant.

“I see. This is beautiful”.

Hitosi pulled out a drawer and took out a docket. “This is your ID card”. He handed you the ID card with the same Lanyard as his. “You can wear it however you want but you will need it to access all the rooms in the office”. 

You took the ID card and saw your smiling face with your employee ID, birth date, and a barcode on it. “Thank you”.

Hitoshi removed a sleek folder from the main docket and placed it on the desk. “This is a brief for the new Project. Nanami-san wanted to hear your thoughts on it later in the day. He said it is not a rush and you should take your time settling in”. 

You nodded and picked up the brown file. “No worries. This would give me something to do today”. You smiled.

Hitoshi nodded happily. “This is your induction document. It has some forms that you need to fill for your emergency contact and insurance. It also has a brief overview of the firm and our past projects so feel free to go through that. I think you will find it interesting”.

“I see”.

Hitoshi placed the thicker document on the table and clapped his hands, “Well I will leave you to it. Oh and if you need anything then please call me”. Hitoshi extended his work card with both hands and you took it with a bow. “It has my mobile and office number so…call me on any. I am here to help you”.

“Okay”.

“Oh and this is your laptop, The login id and password are in your induction file. We all have lunch together in the cafeteria together at 12:30 PM sp please join us. You can meet the rest of the team!”.

“Sure I would love to!”. 

“Great, then enjoy your day and explore!”. Hitoshi gave you a courteous bow and left your office. 

You took a deep breath and plopped down the chair. As happy as you were you had an unsettling feeling that something was about to happen. You had erased the path that led you to Gojo but does this mean that you will never see him again? You tried hard to recollect what the man had told you, “Redo your fate…”. Did that mean that you could completely erase Gojo or did it mean something else. 

By the time lunch time rolled around you had finished going through the project brief and finished your formalities. The firm was quite smaller compared to the domain with only 120 people working here. You even took a video of your new office and sent it to your mom who was in awe of how beautiful it was. 

“y/n!!”. Hitoshi called out to you and waved his hand when he saw you walking through the doors of the cafeteria. 

You made your way to the long wood table where everyone was sitting. “Hello everyone, I am y/n. Nice to meet you all”. You bowed as you introduced yourself. 

Everyone bowed in return and welcomed you to sit with them. “This is maya”. Hitoshi pointed to a blue haired girl. “She handles our digital marketing so you will work closely with her”.

“Nice to meet you y/n-san! Hitoshi has said such good things about you. I look forward to working with you”.

“Nice to meet you Maya. Please call me y/n”. 

“This is Juno,” Hitoshi pointed to a brown haired, spectacled guy in a crisp blue shirt. “He works in accounting”.

“Nice to meet you Juno”. 

Juno smiled politely and bowed in return. 

“He doesn’t talk much but he is really good with numbers!”. Hitoshi continued. “And he is dating Maya”.

Both Juno and Maya turned pink. “Congratulations!”. You smiled at the couple. 

“This is Suzume,”Hitoshi pointed to the girl with a ponytail and rimless glasses. She handles appointments and office administrators. If you need anything, she will help you”.

“Nice to meet you Suzume”.

“Nice to meet you too y/n. I hope you didn’t have trouble settling in”.

“No. None at all. Hitoshi was very kind and gave me a tour of the office”.

She smiled, “If you ever need anything please reach out to me. I will be happy to help you”.

“Thank you”.

"Welcome to the gang!”. Hitohsi exclaimed with jazz hands.

The lunch was filled with chatter about office gossip and latest projects. But you didn’t feel left out at all. Everyone happily shared context to every gossip, sometimes even talking over one another. Juno was the quietest of the lot but everytime he spoke he sent everyone laughing till their stomachs hurt. You could tell that the group was very close but not exclusive. Their unique personalities blended well together and Hitoshi felt like the glue that held everyone together. 

After lunch everyone went for coffee and a small stroll around the garden and it gave you an opportunity to get to know everyone individually. You exchanged numbers and social media id with everyone even Juno who had only two posts and both were with Maya, which was endearing. Suzume, though she looked stoic, loved to chat about anything and everything. Maya and Hitoshi were like siblings who were always bickering. Juno was a man of few words but he was not cold. He spoke about the office and how he met Maya, you could tell he was really warm and loving man.

As you made your way back to your office your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was an unknown number but it seemed familiar. Maybe it was someone from the group. 

“Hello?”. 

…..

“Hello? This is y/n..”

….

You frowned and stared at the number. 

“Nanami-san?”

The person on the other side cut the call. You shrugged and put your phone back in your pocket. 

You stood outside Nanami’s cabin staring at the plaque on the door. You were nervous about meeting him despite Hitoshi assuring you that he is a kind and generous person. You raised your fist and gently tapped on the wooden door.

“Come in”.  A stern voice replied from the other end. 

You turned the knob gently and walked in. “Hi, I am..”

“y/n. Yes. I am Kento Nanami. Nice to meet you finally”. Nanami got up and bowed at you.

“Hi. Nice to meet you too”. You smiled and relaxed. 

He motioned towards the seat and you sat across from him. 

“How was your first day?”.

“It was good. Hitoshi introduced me to some people and also gave me a tour”.

“Oh he is very excited about working with you. He is talented but talks a lot”. Nanami chuckled and his eyes glinted like a proud father teasing his child.

“Yes he did”. You felt a bit nervous now that you had gotten a good look at Nanami. He was exceptionally good looking. His crisp blue shirt clung to his well built torso. His blond hair shimmered in the light and was set very neatly on top of his head. He had a calming and respectful presence. Even his office was neatly organized and well kept. 

“Are you settled in? There were some formalities for the HR”.

“Yes I submitted the forms right before coming here actually”.

“That’s great. How has your day been so far?”.

“Quite good. I went through the project brief that you had sent”. “Oh yes. But before we discuss that I would like to get to know you. What are your ambitions and dreams? And above all, what can my firm do to support you?”.

You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you what you wanted let alone wanted to support you. “I..I just want to do meaningful and creative work. I want to ..help businesses grow through strategic creativity. I am not overly ambitious with respect to position and pay. As long as I can create value and support my family I am happy”.

Nanami pondered over your words for a while and the silence made you question your answer. But your anxiousness was soon washed away by his warm smile. “That is a refreshing answer. I have asked this question to many people and very few have ever given me a genuine answer. I look forward to working with you”.

You smiled widely. “Thank You”.

“So are you from Kyoto?”. Nanami asked.

“Yes and No. I was born and raised in Tokyo but moved to Kyoto 5 years ago for my family. But I love it here”.

“Oh I see. I am also not a native but moved here around the same time as you did”. He added.

“What brought you to Kyoto?”

Nanami leaned back in his chair and he thought about it for a while. He had spent so much time here that he had almost forgotten why he moved here. “For some peace and quiet. The firm I was working with in Tokyo was good and quite well paying but money isn’t everything. Once I had earned enough to move here I packed my bags and left the city”.

You nodded.”But why..Kyoto? If you don’t mind me asking”.

Nanami chuckled. “My Grandmother was from here and I remember visiting her as a child and falling in love with the culture and architecture. In some ways it inspired me to do what I am doing”.

“I can understand. Beauty of the architecture here is unmatched in my opinion. It compels me to take a step back and observe and be present but at the same time brings the creativity out of me”.

Nanami looked at you and gave a satisfying smile. “I couldn’t agree more”.

A light tap on the door broke the comfortable silence in the room.

“Come in”. Nanami said and sat up straight in his seat.

A petite girl with a bob cut peaked her head in through the gap, “Sorry to disturb you, but..Kasumi-san is on the phone”.

“I will take my leave”. You got up and bowed. “I hope to speak to you again”.

“Yes. Thank you for stopping by. If you need anything please reach out to me”. Nanami replied with a professional smile. 

“Yes”.

You rode back home with a smile on your face. You felt content..mostly. These were good people. Honest people. You knew that not all days would be good but you would rather go through the bad days with good people than good days with the bad ones.  But something was tugging at your heart and you couldn’t understand what. Maybe you were scared that all of this was a dream and when you woke up you would be back in the alley drunk and miserable. But this was real. The air on your face was real. The grip on your bike handle was real. The sight pain in your left shoulder was real. Nanami was real. Histoshi was real.

As you parked your bike near the garage, you could hear the chatter form the television inside and the light chatter between your mom and brother seeping through the walls. This was real.

“I am home!”. You announced as you took your shoes off and slipped into your house slipper.

“Welcome home! Dinner is almost ready! How was your first day?”. Your mother called from the kitchen. 

You walked in the living room and saw your brother sitting in front of the television with his eyes glued. He looked up at you briefly and then back to the television. Were you the same as a teenager? So brooding. 

“It was good”. You kept your bag on the couch and plopped down next to your brother.

“Did you make any new friends?”. Your mom asked as she made her way in the living room with a tray and gently put the glass of water on the table.

You chuckled. “Mom, I am not in school anymore. But, yes I did make new friends”.

Ren looked at you through the corner of his eyes, “Are they all nerdy like you?”.

You threw a cushion at him, “At least I have friends”.

“Enough you two! I washed these cushions today! y/n go wash up and come for dinner”.

As you sat down to eat dinner you felt grateful for the choice you had made. Seeing your mom and brother happy made it all worth it. “Mom, there are tomatoes in the curry!”. You whined.

“Oh god y/n. You should eat tomatoes. They are in season and good for you”.

“She is such a child”. Ren chuckled.

“Do you want that new game or not?”. 

“You are the best sister in the world”. Ren bowed sarcastically, making you giggle.

You mom put her spoon down and looked at you trying to recollect something.

“What?”. You asked.

“Oh yes! Someone called for you today”.

“For me? Who?”.

“I don’t know. They asked whether you were home and I told them you were at work”.

“Did you ask for their name?”. You asked, eating a spoonful of rice.

“I did.. But they cut the call”.

You shrugged. “Must be the HR confirming my home number”.

“Yeah..but-”.

“Mom”. You tilted your head and looked at her reassuringly. Your mom had an affinity for fussing over these things. “It’s all good”.

“Are you sure?”.

“Yes. I am sure”. You turned to Ren, “How was school?”.

“Good”. 

You stared at him prompting him to expand on his reply.

“What?”.

“You were supposed to get your test result today?”.

“Oh Yeah I did. I did alright”.

“Alright?”. You mom scoffed. “He scored the highest y/n! I am so happy!”.

“Oh wow. So there is a brain inside that skull!”. You and your mom giggled. “How about all of us go for a picnic to celebrate this weekend?”.

Ren shook his head. “I have a soccer match”.

“After the match?”. Your mom asked, raising her brows excitedly.

“Maybe..”.

You and your mom exchanged knowing looks as you mimicked his signature brooding expression, causing her to burst into laughter. The sound was warm and familiar, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. It filled your heart with joy, yet beneath the surface, a dull ache lingered. The memory of a conversation from what felt like a past life weighed on your mind. She was a kind woman—selfless, devoted. Was it truly wrong for her to have been ambitious? To have wanted more, after spending her entire life working tirelessly for her children? She was simple at heart, never asking for much. A flawed human, yes, but still the mother you loved with every fiber of your being.

Without a second thought, you crawled closer and wrapped your arms around her, burying your face into her shoulder. The warmth of her embrace was immediate as she instinctively draped an arm over you, her laughter fading into quiet concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle yet firm.

A lump formed in your throat, making it impossible to speak. You simply nodded, gripping the fabric of her sleeve a little tighter.

“Can you stop being so emo?” Ren deadpanned from across the table, breaking the silence.

A surprised giggle escaped your lips.

“Dick!” You shot back, sniffling as you leaned back onto your cushion.

“Language, Y/N!” your mom scolded, though there was no real bite to her words.

“Sorry… Dick-san,” you corrected yourself, purposefully avoiding her gaze.

Ren couldn’t hold it in anymore—his giggles burst forth, and soon, you joined him. Laughter rippled through the dining room, filling the space with warmth, momentarily washing away the heaviness in your chest.

You walked into your room with a smile on your face, a rare kind of lightness in your steps. The day had been kind to you, filling your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You placed your bag on your study chair, its usual spot, and let your eyes drift to the blue paper lying on your desk. It was as if it had been waiting for you. You picked it up, running your fingers over the slightly crumpled edges before reading the three words printed on it—Make a wish. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you held it a little longer, as if hoping the words would whisper their magic into your heart.

Without another thought, you slipped the paper under your pillow and crawled into bed. The ceiling above blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, sliding down silently, tracing cold lines on your cheeks. It was only now, in the quiet solitude of your room, that you finally understood—why your heart felt both light and unbearably heavy at the same time. You were happy, yes, but not over him. The realization settled over you like a weight you didn’t know you were still carrying. A part of you despised him, resented the way he had left you tangled in memories you couldn’t escape. And yet, another part—one you wished you could silence—still longed for him. Still wondered why life had given you this moment of happiness but had refused to let you have him too.

A soft chuckle bubbled up through your throat, shaky and bitter, as more tears seeped into your pillow. How greedy of you to want it all. The fatal flaw of human nature—greed. Was that what this was? Wanting happiness and love at the same time, as if the universe hadn’t already decided what you could and couldn’t have? You took a deep, trembling breath, wiping your face as you reached for your phone.

His number. You still remembered it, every digit burned into your mind. Almost unconsciously, your fingers tapped it in, and you stared at the screen, at the sequence of numbers that once connected you to him. The thought crossed your mind like a whisper—If I call now, just to hear his voice… would he pick up? Would he hesitate? Would he sigh before answering? Would he want to talk to you, even now?

Doubt gnawed at you. Should I call? And if he answered… what would I even say?

Your thumb hovered over the call icon, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It would take just a second, just one small movement to bridge the silence between you.

But before you could tap the screen, your phone vibrated in your hand. A notification flashed across the display.

It was from Nanami.

Nanami: Hello y/n. Sorry for messaging you so late. I apologize for cutting out conversation short today. I would like to continue it. Would you be available to discuss it over lunch sometime?

y/n: Hello. I look forward to continuing our conversation. Will you be out of office tomorrow?

Nanami: Yes. I am flying out tomorrow to meet with a client. I will be back in 2 weeks.

y/n: Good luck for your meeting :) Looking forward to our conversation :)

Nanami: That’s good to hear. I will see you tomorrow. Good Night.

Y/n: Good night.

You stretched your arms above your head as you woke up five minutes before your alarm rang. The soft glow of early morning light filtered through your curtains, casting gentle shadows across your room. Turning off the soon-to-ring alarm, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. A cool breeze drifted in as you opened the window, carrying the crisp scent of the morning air. You took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, a simple but refreshing start to the day.

Over the past few days, you had come to a realization—you needed balance. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Life had been moving at a relentless pace, and you often found yourself dwelling on things that had already passed, replaying scenarios in your head that you had no control over anymore. But that had to stop. You had to accept that whatever had to happen, happened. It was in the past, and no amount of overthinking was going to change it. Moving forward, you wanted to be more intentional about your time, about how you took care of yourself.

With Maya’s help, you had finally found some skincare that suited your skin. It had been trial and error for a while, and you had never really paid much attention to it before. But now, cleansing your face and applying a light moisturizer every morning had become a part of your routine—something small, but something that makes you feel good. You also started attending yoga classes three days a week, incorporating morning meditation into your daily schedule. At first, sitting still and focusing on your breath felt unnatural, but as the days went by, you began to enjoy the sense of calm it brought you. It was a slow, grounding practice, a stark contrast to the chaos of daily life.

To be honest, you felt good about it. You had always been skeptical of the so-called "self-care" routines promoted all over social media. It all seemed like a marketing gimmick—just another way to sell overpriced products and push people towards overconsumption. But as you settled into your own routine, you realized that self-care wasn’t about buying things you didn’t need; it was about creating habits that made you feel like a better version of yourself. The clarity that came with a consistent routine was something you hadn’t expected, but you welcomed it.

On top of that, you had started taking a pottery class with Hitoshi. He was exceptionally good at it, his hands shaping the clay with ease, as if it were second nature to him. You, on the other hand, were still figuring things out. You had done some ceramics back in college, but nothing that compared to his skill level. Still, you were determined to keep going. There was something incredibly satisfying about working with your hands, molding something from nothing, watching it take shape. The imperfections didn’t bother you as much as they used to. It was a process, just like everything else in life.

Hobbies, routine, balance—they were all good for you. You were finally starting to understand that.

On the work front, things were looking good as well. Nanami was coming back to the office today, and you were excited to share your project progress with him and get his thoughts on items you were unsure about. His insight always brought a fresh perspective, and you were hoping for some clarity on the lingering issues in your report. So, you packed your bags and got dressed in a navy blue pleated skirt and a light blue sweater to beat the slight chill in the air. Your ever-trusted white sneakers were all ready and waiting at the door as you said your goodbye to your mom and hurriedly stepped out.

The streets looked especially busy today. Lots of black cars with tinted windows lined the roads, idling at the curbs, their drivers standing around, speaking into earpieces or quietly observing passersby. It was a little unusual, but you chalked it up to the trade summit happening in Kyoto this week. You had seen news reports about the influx of foreign delegations and the heightened security measures around the city, so it made sense that the streets were bustling with official-looking vehicles.

As you parked your bike in the usual spot, you noticed that a lot of similar cars were lined outside the office as well. That was strange. Usually, the client visits were low-key, nothing that warranted this level of presence.

“Morning, Y/N!” Maya chirped as she walked up to you, her coffee cup in hand. She was in her usual sleek business-casual attire, her blazer casually draped over her arm.

“Maya! Morning!” You smiled as you locked your bike. Maya and Juno shared an apartment close to the office and often walked in together, so you were surprised to see only Maya today.

“Where’s Juno?” You asked as the two of you began walking towards the office entrance, weaving between the neatly trimmed trees that lined the pathway.

Maya took a sip of her coffee before responding, “He had to come in early today to prepare for the meeting with the big client from Tokyo.”

“New client? I didn’t know about the new cliente.” Your brows furrowed as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your emails in case you had missed an important announcement.

“Chill.” Maya laughed. “They’re just visiting today. Probably to start a new project in Kyoto, and apparently, they want to collaborate with us to get some street cred.” She giggled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “You know Juno, he likes to triple-check everything, and the finance team has been lean for a while, so he has to do some extra work.”

“Aaah… I see.” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Looks like an important client, though. I saw a lot of those black cars on my way here. I thought they were here for the summit.”

“Me too!” Maya nodded. “But then Juno told me about this big-shot client. Between the two of us, it’s a multi-million-dollar project. Nanami-san has been trying to get this project for quite some time.”

“Really? What changed?” You asked, curiosity piqued.

Maya shrugged as she tapped her ID card to check in at the entrance. “No one knows. They’ve been rejecting our proposal for two years, and now they’re suddenly ready to move forward.”

You nodded thoughtfully. Even inside, the office was bustling. Employees were gathered in small groups, speaking in hushed tones, some looking over documents, others straightening their suits as if bracing for an important encounter. The energy was different—there was an air of anticipation.

As you walked in, you overheard snippets of conversation. Words like ‘contract finalization,’ ‘strict timeline,’ and ‘biggest deal of the year’ floated through the air. The excitement was palpable.

Juno rushed over, adjusting his tie and holding a tablet. “Y/N! You made it just in time.”

“For what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They want to see our project proposal,” Juno said, looking slightly out of breath. “Nanami-san asked if you could present some of your findings on the community project. Apparently, the client is particularly interested in that section.”

Your stomach did a little flip. Present? Today? To a client you didn’t even know was coming until this morning? “Wait, I thought this was just an initial visit,” you said cautiously.

Juno shook his head. “Things are moving fast. They might be signing today if all goes well.”

You exchanged a glance with Maya, who simply grinned and patted your shoulder. “Looks like you’re in the spotlight, Y/N.”

Taking a deep breath, you straightened up. “Alright. Let’s do this.” You were confident that you had done some really good work and hoped that you could make Nanami proud.

Whatever had changed the client’s mind, this was a major opportunity—and you were about to play a part in it.

“Oh I need to check some things with the IT so I will go ahead. Catch you at lunch?”. Maya raised an eyebrow.

“I might be having lunch with Nanami today”. You smiled.

Maya gave you a teasing look. The gang had been teasing you with Nanami ever since the two of you started talking on the phone and texting. You felt giddy but you knew it would take you some time to completely get over him. “It’s a work lunch!”. You added.

“Sure. I believe you!”. Maya rolled her eyes and waved you bye. 

Walking up to the elevator you were excited to meet Nanami today. All the talking and texting on the phone over the past two weeks had made you feel a bit closer to him.Even if some conversations were about the analysis you were working on you felt closer to him .You were lost in your thoughts about Nanami when the elevator doors opened. 

You looked up, and time stopped.

Standing in front of you, bathed in the soft morning light, was Gojo Satoru. His white hair caught the sun just right, making it glow like a halo, but the smirk tugging at his lips was anything but angelic. He wore his signature blue Zegna sweater and fitted trousers, effortlessly elegant yet impossibly relaxed. His gaze, hidden behind dark-tinted lenses, was trained on you—steady, unreadable, predatory in a way that made your breath hitch.

The elevator doors were about to close when he reached out, pressing a button without breaking eye contact. “Gettin’ in?” His voice was smooth, teasing, dripping with something that made your stomach tighten.

“I… yes.” You swallowed hard and stepped in, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

The doors slid shut, enclosing the two of you in a space suddenly too small, too warm. The silence crackled. You could feel his presence beside you—broad shoulders, lean frame, the faint scent of something expensive and clean, laced with an undertone of danger. His gaze was heavy, deliberate, traveling over you in a way that made your skin burn. You refused to look at him, but your body betrayed you, every nerve ending acutely aware of his proximity.

Your head was spinning so fast that when the elevator gave a tiny jolt, your balance wavered. Your breath hitched as you stumbled slightly only to be caught by firm hands.

One large palm splayed against your waist, the other curling gently around your wrist, steadying you with ease. His grip was firm, warm, the heat of his touch searing through the layers of your clothes. You sucked in a sharp breath, finally daring to look up.

Gojo was watching you, the usual playful smirk nowhere to be seen. Instead, something darker flickered across his face, something unreadable yet entirely consuming. His fingers flexed slightly before he let go, his touch lingering just a second too long.

"Careful," he murmured, voice softer now, but no less dangerous.

When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to the top floor, you bolted, clutching your bag as if it were a lifeline. You barely registered where you were going, only stopping once you reached your office chair. Exhaling shakily, you forced yourself to focus—until you glanced up and saw him through the transparent door.

Gojo Satoru, still smirking, was walking towards Nanami’s office. But just before disappearing inside, he turned his head—locking eyes with you through the glass.

And this time, you couldn’t look away.

Only when he disappeared behind the door did you finally let out the breath you had been holding. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding like a war drum. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead, sliding down your neck, and your throat felt parched, as if you had swallowed dust. You could still feel the ghost of his touch burning on your waist, a brand that refused to fade. You knew what he was capable of. You knew the kind of power he wielded, the lines he had already crossed. And yet—the butterflies were back. A treacherous warmth spread through your body, leaving you weak at the knees.

Your vision blurred as you stumbled down the dimly lit L-shaped corridor toward the bathroom. A few people greeted you, their voices distant, but you barely managed a nod. Some gave you questioning looks, sensing something was wrong. You didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

The moment you locked the bathroom door behind you, you rushed to the sink. Cold water. That was all you could think about. You splashed it over your face again and again, until your cheeks stung, until strands of your hair were soaked, clinging to your skin. But you didn’t care. You needed to wake up. This had to be some kind of nightmare. Why was he here? What did he want? A thousand thoughts clashed in your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. You wiped the patch of skin he had touched so harshly that you almost gave yourself a rash. 

You looked up, meeting your own reflection. The blood had drained from your face, leaving you ghostly pale. You looked like you had aged overnight.

Straightening up, you took a slow, deliberate breath. What were you so afraid of? He didn’t know you. He didn’t know anything about you. He did not exist in your reality.

All you had to do was stay out of his way. Yes, stay out of his way.

Not too hard.

You could do it.

Grabbing a paper towel, you wiped your face, inhaled deeply, and stepped out.

“y/n! Are you seeing this?” Hitoshi exclaimed as you walked into your office, his voice laced with urgency. Maya and Suzume sat on the love seat, looking nervous, their hands clasped together in silent tension.

“What happened?” You asked, your brows knitting together as you looked between them. You sniffled slightly, the remnants of a cold making your throat feel scratchy, before making your way to your chair. The air in the room felt thick, charged with unease.

“The chaos!” Suzume blurted out, her eyes darting towards the large glass windows. “They are everywhere.”

You exhaled, leaning back in your chair. “So what? It’s just a matter of a few days, and once the project is finalized, they will be out of here,” you said, trying to sound convincing, but your own words felt hollow even to you.

“Y/n,” Suzume called out, her voice unsteady. “This is not a project. Nobody brings this many people for a project.”

She was right. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you processed her words. It was unusual—no, it was more than that. It was downright alarming. And then there was him. His presence alone made this situation far more complicated.

“What are you implying?” you asked, your voice quieter this time, as if afraid to hear the answer.

Heavy silence hung over the room. No one wanted to voice what you all knew deep down. The truth was there, glaring and undeniable. Maya bit her nails nervously, her eyes refusing to meet yours. Finally, she whispered, “It’s an acquisition.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You exchanged glances with your team, all of them reflecting the same fear. Change was coming, and not the kind you could easily maneuver around.

But you had to keep the morale up. “So what if it is?” You straighten your posture, forcing a confident tone. “We are the core team. Our jobs are secure. You guys don’t need to worry. And as far as all this chaos goes, an acquisition doesn’t necessarily mean that they will move here. That wouldn’t make sense. They can acquire and let us be as well.”

You saw their shoulders drop slightly, the tension easing just a fraction. “It’s going to be fine. We just need to make sure that we nail the presentation, and we’ll see where to go from there.”

“Can you please talk to Nanami-san?” Maya asked, her voice hopeful.

“Yes! Please, y/n!” Suzume added. “I… please, y/n.”

“Now?” you asked, your nerves kicking in.

“If possible,” Hitoshi said, his tone almost pleading. “You are the only one he will listen to! I know this! Please!”.

You bit your lip nervously, pulled out your phone, and began typing.

y/n: Hi, I know you must be busy, but can we please talk? It’s urgent.

You set your phone down, uncertain of when or if Nanami would reply. To your surprise, your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Nanami: Sure. You can come to my office.

“Okay. I will go and talk to him. Stay here!” You grabbed your phone and hurried to his office, hoping—praying—not to run into Gojo on the way.

You tapped on the door gently, your voice steady despite the nerves bubbling under your skin. “It’s me.”

“Come in,” Nanami replied, his calm voice providing the smallest sense of reassurance.

Stepping inside, a smile unconsciously formed on your face at the sight of him. But your smile faltered the moment another figure swiveled in his chair.

Gojo Satoru.

You felt the air shift as he turned, his signature grin in place, eyes sharp and knowing.

“Y/n, meet Gojo Satoru,” Nanami said, first looking at you, then at Gojo.

You swallowed, plastering on a polite smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” You gave a courteous bow, mentally chanting Fake it till you make it, y/n.

Gojo smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Nice to meet you… y/n,” he drawled, drawing out your name with an unsettling familiarity.

“Please, have a seat,” Nanami offered, gesturing to the chair next to Gojo.

Your pulse quickened. “Oh, it’s alright. I can come in later,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Nanami, ever perceptive, caught the nervousness in your expression. He exhaled softly before speaking. “Mr. Gojo, if you could excuse me, I have something to discuss with y/n, please excuse me” He stood, moving around his desk, and gently took your hand, guiding you towards the door.

The moment was brief but not unnoticed. You could feel Gojo’s eyes on you, his gaze lingering with keen interest as you stepped out with Nanami, the weight of the encounter pressing heavily on your shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”, Nanami asked with genuine curiosity as the two of you stood outside his office.

“Yes. Yes I am but..all this..what is going on?”. You fiddled with your phone in your hand.

“I know this is too sudden. I wish I could explain in detail but..”. Nanami looked at you like he was searching for the right word, “The truth is that we are being acquired”.

“What about-”.

“All jobs are safe y/n. I assure you. It was a key condition”.

“Will we have to move?”. 

“No. We are not going anywhere”. Nanami smiled.

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much! Everyone was so nervous. I was so nervous.”.

Nanami smiled. “Don’t be. Nothing changes for us”. Nanami felt compelled to hold you but he couldn’t. Not now. Not here. Not yet. Instead he squeezed your hand gently to reassure you.

You nodded happily. “I will leave you to attend to..him”. You nudge your head towards the door.

Nanami smiled and went back in.

“Good news everyone!”. You announced as you walked into your office confidently. “Nothing changes for us. Our jobs are safe. We are not going anywhere”.

“Seriously?!”. Maya jumped from the couch and hugged you.

Suzume joined in, “Thank you, y/n! I was so scared”.

“Can I join in as well?”Hitoshi asked.

You all nodded and were soon in a group hug.

“But wait..”, Hitoshi was the first to pull away. “...If we are not going anywhere does it mean they are moving here?”.

You hadn’t thought about that possibility yet. 

“Who cares if they move here? They are too uptight to survive here. As long as we have each other we should be fine right?”. Maya added happily.

“Yes”. Suzume spoke. “This is my office and this is my gang. No one messes with us!”.

You smiled painfully. Would he actually move here? No. He loves his Tokyo office too much. Everyone he loves and cares for is there. He will never move here.

The conference room was silent as you set up your presentation. The projector flickered to life, displaying your carefully prepared slides. Nanami sat at the head of the table, his arms crossed, his eyes sharp and attentive. Hitoshi tapped his pen against the table, looking eager yet tense. And then there was Gojo.

He lounged back in his chair, long legs stretched out, one arm lazily resting on the table as he watched you. His gaze was heavy, teasing, knowing. It made the air feel thick, your skin prickling under his attention.

You cleared your throat. "Good afternoon, everyone. I'll be walking you through our marketing strategy for the new community center." You clicked the remote, and the first slide appeared.

"Mmm, community engagement," Gojo murmured, "I do love getting involved."

Your fingers momentarily slipped on the remote. You shot him a sharp glance, but he merely grinned, tilting his head as if daring you to react.

Nanami cleared his throat. "Y/n, continue."

You steadied yourself. "Right. As I was saying, our goal is to position the community center as a cornerstone of social support and development. We've outlined a multi-tiered marketing approach to ensure maximum reach and engagement."

You advanced to the next slide, outlining key engagement strategies. "First, we plan to leverage digital marketing—social media campaigns, email outreach, and targeted ads. This will help us attract younger demographics while maintaining communication with existing community members."

Gojo hummed softly. "You think social media alone is enough? A few posts and hashtags, and suddenly people show up?"

You met his gaze, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. "No, which is why we’re also implementing offline strategies, including community events, partnerships with local businesses, and promotional materials distributed across key locations."

Nanami nodded approvingly. "That’s a well-rounded approach. Have you considered potential barriers to engagement, such as accessibility or public perception?"

You smiled slightly, grateful for the constructive question. "Yes, accessibility is a key concern, so we're prioritizing inclusive events and transportation support. As for public perception, we’ve designed a community outreach program to build trust through transparency. Open house events and Q&A sessions will allow residents to voice their concerns and feel involved."

Nanami’s lips curled slightly upward. "Impressive. That level of detail will go a long way in securing support."

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you looked down briefly before moving to the next slide.

A soft scoff came from Gojo. "Huh. Didn’t realize Nanami gave out compliments now. Must be a special occasion."

You glanced at him, but he was already looking away, his jaw tight. His fingers drummed against the table a little too firmly, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen.

You swallowed and continued. "Next, we have our timeline—broken down into three phases: awareness, engagement, and retention. In the awareness phase, we’ll generate buzz through teaser campaigns and influencer collaborations. Engagement will focus on community-driven events, and retention will involve long-term initiatives like membership programs and recurring events."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "And how do you plan to measure success?"

You hesitated for only a second before answering. "Through key performance indicators: attendance rates, social media analytics, membership sign-ups, and community feedback. By tracking these, we can adapt our strategy as needed."

Gojo smirked. "Smart. Adaptability is attractive."

Your breath hitched, and you fought to keep your expression neutral. Nanami, seemingly unfazed, ignored him. "What’s your budget allocation for these strategies?"

You exhaled, focusing back on the presentation. "We’ve broken the budget into three main categories: promotional materials, digital marketing, and event organization. The majority is allocated to events since direct community interaction is our primary goal."

Nanami nodded again, thoughtful. "That’s a sound distribution. Have you anticipated any risks?"

You moved to the next slide. "Yes. Low initial engagement, budget constraints, and potential resistance from the community. We’ve developed contingency plans, including alternative funding options and additional outreach efforts."

Gojo leaned in slightly, his voice softer. "And if something unexpected happens? What’s your personal approach when things don’t go as planned?"

You hesitated, feeling the intensity in his stare. "I adapt," you said finally. "Find solutions on the spot. Panic doesn’t solve problems."

Gojo’s smirk deepened. "Good answer."

Nanami shifted in his chair. "I think that covers everything. Well done, y/n. Your strategy is comprehensive and well-thought-out."

Your chest warmed at the praise, and you gave a small nod. "Thank you."

Gojo let out a breathy chuckle, tapping his fingers against the table. "Guess we’re lucky to have someone so capable."

Nanami stood. "We’ll move forward with the plan. I’ll arrange for a follow-up next week."

As the meeting ended, you began gathering your notes. Nanami reached over to hand you a stray document, his fingers grazing yours. "You really did a great job. This will set a solid foundation for our project."

You smiled, nodding. "I appreciate that, Nanami. I really do."

From the corner of your eye, you saw Gojo shift in his seat. His usual smug expression darkened slightly, his lips pressing together in a thin line.

Then, just as you turned, Gojo suddenly stood, stepping closer than necessary. His fingers brushed the small of your back, a light but unmistakable touch. "Careful, y/n," he murmured near your ear. 

Your breath caught, and you turned your head slightly, only to find his gaze locked onto yours, a knowing glint in his eyes. The room felt too small, too charged. Was he seriously flirting with you? Here? Now? When he didn’t even know you? Dick!

Nanami cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Let’s wrap up. We all have work to do."

Gojo exhaled dramatically. "Right, right. Work first."

As you gathered your things, Gojo lingered for just a second longer watching you attentively like a predator sizing up a prey.

The restaurant hums with quiet conversation, the soft clinking of silverware filling the space between you. It’s been two weeks since you last saw him—two weeks since you’ve felt this strange sense of steadiness that only seems to settle when Nanami is near.

You shouldn’t have missed him. You tell yourself it’s just the adjustment period—just the way work has been hectic. But sitting across from him now, watching as he carefully rolls up his sleeves, you realize how much you had noticed his absence.

Nanami sets his phone down, screen facing the table. His gestures are always deliberate, his presence as composed as ever, but there’s something almost hesitant about the way his gaze lingers on you before he speaks.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I just got here.”

He nods, glancing at your glass. “Not drinking?”

You glance at the untouched wine. “Didn’t feel like it.”

His eyes sharpen slightly, just for a second. “You seem tense.”

You exhale, leaning back slightly. “It’s just work.”

Nanami studies you for a moment, quiet and unreadable. Then, as if making a decision, he leans forward slightly, voice softer now.

“As long as I am here, you don’t need to worry about anything.”

The words settle deep in your chest, warm and certain.

You blink, caught off guard. “That’s… a bold statement.”

Nanami doesn’t look away. “It’s the truth.”

Something about the way he says it makes you believe him.

You look down at your plate, focusing on the way your fingers toy with the edge of your napkin. “You don’t have to look out for me.”

“I know,” he says simply. “But I will.”

A quiet moment stretches between you.

Nanami tells himself he shouldn’t have said that. That this is a work lunch, just a routine check-in, nothing more. But the way your shoulders relax ever so slightly, the way you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding—he knows he can’t take it back.

And worse, he doesn’t want to.

So he clears his throat, shifting the conversation back to safer territory. Work, deadlines, next week’s meetings. He keeps his voice even, his demeanor steady, but beneath the surface, he feels it—the way his restraint is beginning to fray at the edges.

Somewhere between discussing a client proposal and finishing your meal, he finds himself speaking before he can stop himself.

“You can call me Kento.”

You blink, looking up. “What?”

Nanami’s jaw tightens, like he’s already regretting it, but his voice remains steady. “Outside of work. In the office, we keep things professional. I’d rather not have people getting the wrong idea.”

 “And what idea would that be?”, You asked hesitantly.

He holds your gaze, fingers tightening slightly around his glass. “That I favor you.”

The words come out firmer than he intends, laced with something he refuses to name.

You could tease him, lighten the moment with a joke. But instead, you let the words settle, something unreadable flickering in your own eyes before you nod.

“Alright,” you say softly. “Kento.”

Nanami exhales slowly, but he doesn’t allow himself to react. Not to the way his name sounds coming from you. Not to the way his pulse betrays him.

The plates have been cleared, the check untouched between you, but neither of you move to leave just yet.

And for now, that’s enough.

Gojo woke up sweating and panting, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. His heart pounded violently against his ribs as he frantically scanned his surroundings. The dim morning light filtered through the curtains of his penthouse bedroom, casting long shadows across the room. His sheets were tangled around his legs, damp with sweat. His fingers trembled as he reached for his phone on the nightstand, the bright screen forcing him to blink rapidly.

1st January 2021, 10:00 AM.

A sharp, throbbing pain coursed through his skull as he fell back onto his pillow, pressing his fingers against his temples in an attempt to dull the headache. His head felt like it was being split open, every pulse sending fresh waves of nausea through him. He gritted his teeth and let out a low groan, his body tense as he forced himself to take slow, deliberate breaths.

What the hell was going on? His mind raced, searching for an explanation. Was it just a nightmare? A lingering hallucination from the relentless drinking? The hazy remnants of some twisted memory? His throat was dry, and his body felt heavier than usual, like he was sinking into the mattress. Something was off—terribly off.

As he sat across from the new recruit, Gojo felt a bitterness seep into his heart, curling around his ribs like a vice. The poor girl was not at fault here—he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from despising her nonetheless.

He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back before half-heartedly picking up her resume. The paper crinkled slightly between his fingers, his grip unintentionally tight.

“Can I just say, sir, that I am so excited to work with you! I have dreamt of working for you—I mean, for Domain Dynamics—for such a long time, and now that I’m sitting here, I—”

“Did I ask?” Gojo interrupted, raising a brow as he leaned back in his chair, his tone flat, his expression unreadable.

“I… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her enthusiasm instantly deflating.

“Do you even know where your office is?”

“Uh… no,” she admitted, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Gojo let out an exasperated sigh before pressing a button on his desk. “Miwa. In. Now.”

Within seconds, Miwa rushed in, her ever-efficient presence a stark contrast to the girl’s nervous energy. “Yes, sir.”

Gojo gestured vaguely in Sakura’s direction. “Can you show…” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if only now realizing he didn’t know her name. “What’s your name?”

“Sakura,” she replied, her voice quieter now.

“Yeah. Can you show Sakura her new… office and make sure she’s settled in?” His words were dismissive, as though she were an afterthought.

“Yes, sir!” Miwa chirped, already gesturing for the girl to follow.

“Oh, and Miwa,” Gojo added casually, just as they were about to leave. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “Don’t move her into the office across from mine. Keep that one empty.”

Miwa hesitated. “But sir… that’s where—”

“I have a feeling it’ll be filled soon.” His smile widened, sharp and almost cruel.

Miwa nodded, understanding her cue. “Sure, sir. Sakura, please come with me.”

Sakura cast one last, uncertain glance at Gojo before trailing after Miwa, her earlier excitement all but gone.

With a sigh, he shifted in his seat, his foot bouncing against the floor in a restless rhythm. His fingers skimmed through the stack of resumes on his desk until they landed on one buried beneath Sakura’s. He pulled it free, lifting it to eye level.

The photo attached to the top corner caught his attention first. A smiling face, bright yet oddly familiar. His chest tightened—not with unease, but with something warmer, something steadier. It was rare for a simple photograph to evoke such a feeling.

But his moment of quiet curiosity was interrupted when his gaze dropped to the bottom of the page. A small, neatly printed note stood out against the crisp paper: Candidate withdrew.

His brows furrowed. Withdraw? Who in their right mind would turn down an offer at Domain Dynamics?

His fingers curled around the edges of the resume as he reached for his phone, his expression unreadable. He pressed a button, and the line connected almost instantly.

“I’m sending you a resume,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Find out everything about this person. Everything.”

A pause, then a sharp, efficient reply. “Yes, sir.”

Gojo exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the paper as he glanced at the photo once more. This wasn’t over. Not yet.

It had been days, and he knew everything he needed to know about the mystery candidate. Every detail, every piece of information had been meticulously gathered, analyzed, and stored away in his mind. And yet, something was missing—pieces of the puzzle that refused to fit, gaps in the picture that made no sense. It gnawed at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch, a frustration that wouldn’t let go.

For the past week, sleep had eluded him. Every night, the same dream. Over and over. He was driving—no, running—through hazy, dimly lit streets, his pulse pounding, his breath ragged. Searching. Desperately looking for someone. But who? The answer was always just out of reach, slipping through his fingers like smoke. He woke up every morning with the same frustration, his mind clouded, his nerves frayed. It was affecting him more than he cared to admit. He could barely focus on anything else.

As he stepped into his penthouse, he loosened his tie roughly, exhaling sharply. The tension in his shoulders never seemed to leave these days. He had dismissed the security team for the night—he needed silence, space to think. His sanctuary, untouched and undisturbed. But the moment he walked through the heavy wooden doors, he knew something was off. A sound, faint but distinct, came from the kitchen.

He froze, muscles tensing.

“Hello?” His voice was sharp, edged with suspicion. “Who is there?”

Silence. No reply.

His jaw clenched as he moved towards the couch, reaching under it with practiced ease. His fingers wrapped around the cold steel of his hidden revolver. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled it out, steadying his grip before making his way toward the kitchen.

“Who is there?” he repeated, voice lower this time. Controlled. Dangerous.

He turned the corner, gun raised, finger steady on the trigger—only to be met with a sight that made him pause.

A man sat at the kitchen island, completely at ease, dressed in an expensive blue velvet coat. He was eating a bowl of cereal.

The man looked up, spoon mid-air, and grinned. “Hello!” he said cheerfully, as if this were a casual breakfast meet-up. “No need to get aggressive.”

Gojo didn’t lower the gun. His cerulean eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing here?”

The man sighed dramatically, putting his spoon down with deliberate slowness. Then, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a silk handkerchief and dabbed his mouth. Every movement was calm. Unbothered.

“Come on, Satoru,” he said, tilting his head. “Forgot me already?”

Gojo’s grip on the gun tightened. His patience was wearing thin. “You have two minutes to explain yourself before I—”

“Before you what?” The man raised an eyebrow, amused. “Shoot me?” He leaned forward slightly. “Go ahead. But I should warn you… no bullet in the world can harm me.” His voice dropped, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “So, if you actually want some answers, I’d suggest you take a seat.” The man pointed at the seat opposite to him.

Gojo didn’t lower the gun, but after a long moment, he moved to the stool across from the man, his expression cold. “Continue.”

The man smirked. “Wow, straight to the point, huh?” He leaned back, stretching lazily. “Alright then… where should we start?”

“Who are you?” Gojo asked sternly, his grip tightening around the gun.

The man waved a hand dismissively, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Irrelevant. Ask a better question.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched. His usual confidence wavered against the man’s unshaken composure. “How do you know me?”

The man chuckled, a deep, knowing laugh that sent a chill down Gojo’s spine. “I know everyone in this world,” he said simply, as if stating an undeniable fact. Then, with an exaggerated motion, he scooped another spoonful of food into his mouth.

The silence between them was thick, weighed down by unspoken tension. Only the sound of loud, deliberate crunching filled the space.

Gojo inhaled sharply. “Are you here to kill me?”

The man stopped chewing mid-bite. Slowly, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, he leaned back against his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Kill you?” he repeated, almost amused. “I saved your life, Satoru. From the same gun you’re holding right now.”

Gojo frowned, glancing down at the weapon in his hands.

“The bullet in the barrel,” the man continued, voice unwavering, “has your name written on it. Not mine.”

Gojo’s fingers flexed over the grip. “When?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man tilted his head, studying him carefully. “The dreams…” he mused, stroking his chin. “Satoru, are they really dreams? Or are they flashes of memories?”

Gojo stiffened. A sharp inhale.

“How do—”

“What do you want the most right now?” The man cut him off, his voice softer this time, almost hypnotic.

Gojo stared at him blankly. The question caught him off guard.

“Hmm?” The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What do you want the most right now? At this moment. Money? Power? Answers?” His dark eyes glinted under the dim light. “I can grant you one wish. But first, you need to tell me… What do you want the most right now?”

“What do you mean?”. Gojo scoffed. “Who are you a magician?”.

“Funny huh?”. The man quipped. “How about I tell you about the dreams you have been having?”.

Gojo remained silent.

“So the dreams about wanting to save someone? Running through the dingy lanes? A bridge? A gun? Feeling lost and helpless?”.

Gojo stared at him silently. He had nothing to say. There was no way this guy knew about all of it. He hadn’t even shared it with Geto.

“Oh, only because Geto doesn’t know, I can’t know?”. He teased, leaving Gojo startled. “Look, I know everything. So what is it going to be? I can leave right now. I can make a meteor crash and destroy this earth. What do you want?”.

“Okay, even if you do know about…my dreams..how do I know that you can give me what I want?”. Gojo asked, still unsure.

“Hmmm, Interesting. Go ahead and ask for something instant. Try”.

“An apple”. He said.

With a poof an apple appeared in Gojo’s hand. “Go ahead and have a bite. It’s real”.

Gojo sniffed the apple and then took a bite and indeed it was real.

“A cat”. Gojo said.

The man rolled his eyes, “You are allergic to cats”. 

Gojo didn’t respond immediately. His mind raced, trying to find footing in the spiraling confusion. He had fought countless enemies, faced death a thousand times over, but this—this was different.

The man waited patiently, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The air between them felt electric, charged with something unseen yet tangible.

Gojo parted his lips, but no words came out.

Because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what to say. Words had always come easily to him—sharp, clever, effortless. But now, standing in the vast emptiness, facing the man before him, he found himself lost. His lips parted slightly, but nothing coherent escaped. Only hesitation, only uncertainty.

“I…” Gojo’s voice barely made a sound. His eyes flickered between the man and the empty space between them, as if searching for an answer that wasn’t there. He felt the weight of something heavy, something that had been pressing on his chest for far too long. His throat tightened. He swallowed hard, but it did little to stop the burn behind his eyes.

And then, a single word. One word raced through his mind, over and over, beating in his skull like a relentless drum. A word that had haunted him since the start of the year, threading itself through every thought, every moment of solitude. A word so powerful it had rooted itself deep inside him, becoming a part of his very existence. A word that embodied his wants, his needs, his deepest desires.

“Y/n…”

The man before him smiled, pleased, as if he had been expecting this answer all along.

“That’s your wish?” he asked, voice calm, measured, almost teasing.

“Yes.” Gojo breathed. The moment the word left his lips, he felt it settle within him, as though confirming what he already knew in his bones. It wasn’t just a wish—it was a truth more certain than his own existence. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed. Whether this was all a trick or not, he had to take a chance and know who y/n is.

“Y/n.”

The man tilted his head, amused. “Do you even know who that is?”

Gojo’s fingers trembled as he slowly lowered the gun he had been holding, the weight of it suddenly insignificant. He knew everything about her and yet nothing at all.

“...no,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t know why he was drawn to her. Why her name clung to his mind like a stubborn ghost. Why, out of all the possibilities, she was the only one he could think of. But he knew—without reason, without explanation—that he needed to be drawn to her. That whoever she was, she was the answer, the missing piece, the key to something far greater than himself.

His happiness. His life.

The man leaned back, arms crossed, studying him with an expression that was unreadable.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You don’t know who she is, but you’re certain she’s what you want?”

“Yes.” Gojo didn’t waver this time. His voice was steady. Sure.

The man chuckled, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “I can give you everything, you know. Power beyond imagination. Wealth that no mortal could ever dream of. I could carve a place for you in history so grand, no man or god could ever erase it! I could make you untouchable!” His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. “And you’re telling me, out of all that, you still choose ….y/n? Someone you don’t even know”

Gojo met his gaze without hesitation. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, the kind of smile that carried the weight of certainty.

“Yes.”

The man let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if entertained by the sheer absurdity of it all. “Good job, Satoru,” he murmured, his amusement clear.

But then, something shifted. The lightness in his tone faded, replaced by something far heavier, something more ominous.

His expression darkened.

“But tell me,” he said, voice dropping just slightly. “Are you sure you can handle what I’m about to show you?”

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken meaning.

Gojo nodded.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just certainty.

The man exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly before he finally smirked. “Alright, then.”

And with that, the world around them began to change.

After what felt like an eternity, Gojo opened his eyes and found himself sitting on his couch, his body trembling as if he had been drowning in the depths of his own mind. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, pressing down on his chest like an unbearable weight. Across from him, the man stood in eerie silence, watching him with an expression that held no sympathy ,only truth.

Tears streamed down Gojo’s cheeks, unchecked, raw, his breaths coming in uneven gasps. His fingers dug into his knees as he whispered, voice hoarse and broken, “I… I did that to her.”

The man gave him a slow, measured nod. “All of that.”

Gojo let out a shuddering exhale, his head hanging low as his vision blurred. His mind replayed every moment, every agonizing second he had been forced to relive. Every cruel word he had thrown at you, every time he had turned his back when all you needed was for him to stay. He saw the way your eyes had dimmed, the way your laughter had died in your throat. The moment you stopped reaching for him. And worst of all, the way you looked at him at the very end—broken, betrayed, as if he had torn out your very soul and crushed it beneath his heel.

His gut twisted violently. He thought he had been protecting you. He convinced himself that every decision he made had been for your own good. But no—it had never been about you, had it? It was his selfishness, his arrogance, his fear of losing you in ways he couldn’t control. He had let his love consume him, twist into something unrecognizable. And now, all of it—the pain, the regret, the love he had tried to push away—came rushing back with a force so intense it made him want to tear himself apart.

His nails dug into his palms. He had been ready to die. When he found out you were gone, that you had left this world with nothing but sorrow in your heart, he had walked to the edge of that bridge with every intention of following you. He hadn’t even seen you, hadn’t held your lifeless body, hadn’t been there to say goodbye. Just a hollow message, a whisper of finality.

Gone.

It didn’t seem real. He thought if he ended it right there, he could find you. Maybe in another life, maybe somewhere beyond this hell he created.

He had stood on that bridge, gun in hand, the barrel pressing against his temple as the wind howled around him. His heart was hollow, his mind filled with nothing but you—your scent, your voice, your smile, all the things he had taken for granted.

He couldn't exist in a world where you didn't. It was that simple.

But then, as his finger began to tighten around the trigger, a voice cut through the storm inside his head.

“That won’t bring her back.”

Gojo's breath hitched, his grip on the gun faltering as he turned his head slightly. The man stood there, calm, composed, unaffected by the sheer devastation radiating from him.

“What the hell do you know?” Gojo growled, his voice rough, unhinged.

The man stepped closer, gaze unwavering. “I know you don’t want to die. You want her back. And I can give you that chance.”

Gojo’s hands shook. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to tell this stranger to go to hell. But the weight of those words settled deep within him, a flicker of impossible hope threading through his grief-stricken mind.

He remembered the way he had hesitated, the way his hands had trembled as he lowered the gun. The wind had howled around him, a bitter, unforgiving force, but for the first time since hearing of your death, he had felt something else. A pull. A whisper of something he couldn’t ignore.

Now, sitting here on his couch, he exhaled sharply. He had been given a second chance. A miracle he didn’t deserve. But he wouldn’t waste it. He would find you. He would make things right. He would earn back the love he had shattered, no matter what it took. Even if he had to crawl through hell itself, he would not lose you again.

This time, he wouldn’t let you go.

You belonged to him. And he would make sure that this time, you knew it. 

He looked up at the man, his eyes still red and had a look of determination. “I will redo my fate..for her”.

“Are you sure you can?”. The man smirked, “It won’t be easy”.

“I will do everything in my power to make her mine. This time I will …not mess it up!”.

"Do you love her or do you want her?". The man teased a little more.

Gojo scoffed, shaking his head, a twisted grin pulling at his lips—but there was no amusement in it. It was something darker, something raw, something that pulsed beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. His fingers flexed, nails biting into his palm as his breath came out unsteady, ragged.

“I love her,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent. Then he laughed, but it was hollow, almost broken. “I love her.”

His chest ached with the weight of it, with the sheer force of what he felt, with the need that had rooted itself so deep inside him it had become part of his very being.

“I love her with every fiber of my existence,” he said again, more forcefully this time, like he was daring the universe to challenge him. “She is the air I need—the only thing that keeps me breathing, the only thing that makes sense. Without her, everything is suffocating. Everything is wrong!”

His voice wavered, but his eyes burned, fever-bright, manic.

“You dare ask me if I love her?", He threw his head back and laughed, "She is the blood in my veins,” he continued, his fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, like he wanted to tear them through his own skin just to prove it. “She’s inside me, running through me, keeping me alive even when I don’t want to be.”

His breath hitched, his expression twisting into something wrecked.

“She’s my bones,” he whispered, pressing his palm against his chest, as if he could feel her there, carved into his ribs, woven into his very structure. “My conscience. My clarity. My fucking ruin.”

His heart was hammering against his ribs now, erratic, frantic, desperate.

“She is my heart, my soul, mine.” His voice cracked, something on the verge of a plea, a demand, an obsession that had long since consumed him. His pupils were blown wide, his pulse wild beneath his skin.

“She is everything to me. Everything!”

His breathing was uneven now, his hands shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands like he was trying to ground himself, like he was trying to stop the storm inside him.

But he couldn’t. He never could. Because she was the storm.

And he was drowning in her.

The two men exchanged deranged smiles. One knowing what was about to happen and the other determined to right his wrongs.

Tag list: @commandertorindhepard @inlove-maze @starlightanyaaa @missybrat @lem-hhn @valleydoli @definetlythinkimanalien @luckyangelballoon @sheep-infog @gojoprincesss @kanaojacksonofc @bubera974 @ginginha @mari-ho14 @mashtura

[localplaguenurse]

THEY!

THEY!!!

THEY!!!

IT THEM! THE YOUNGEST CHILDREN!

Feng's design was based off @probably-doesnt-exist's drawings of wifey and Yaling was @ainescribe's wifey!

also pls pls pls ramble ilysm best beta reader

FENG AND YALING MY BELOVEDS!!! Fr after I finished reading the final chapter of Gijinko I just latched onto the twins in a violent fashion.

Both were designed with the fanarts given of reader, and I will literally ramble abt my design choices if someone enables me

(shout out to @localplaguenurse for just letting me lay complete claim on the two)

[geopsych]

That time of year when the ginkgos are laying down the golden carpet.

[coffee-b]

i am. thrilled to have done this style study of the incomparable kuri huang

the graceling series is such a huge part of my inspiration, so i wanted to base this off the alt cover of the first one!! tons of fun and an interesting challenge!

[Image ID: Arywin, a high elf, in the illustrated style of Kuri Huang. They have pale skin and black hair, which is cut into a bob in the front and two long braids on the side (the second one is hidden behind their back). They wear a green and gold robe, inspired by Ming dynasty hanfu. They stand with a hand over their mouth between the two branches of a ginkgo tree. The entire scene is highly stylised with naturalistic patterns in teal, green, and yellow. End ID.]

[localplaguenurse]

IF MY THROAT WASN'T ALREADY SORE I WOULD BE SCREAMING!!!!! MY GIRL!!!!!!!!!!

WIP- Lihua

Not completed, but posted as I do not know whether I have the motivation to complete it (Even though most of it is uncoloured)

Oc by localplaguenurse

[songsofadelaide]

Asleep Among Endives

Chapter 2 — The Sun

In the summer of 1997, the fledgling clan head of the superpower Gojo Clan fancied you a playmate, one headstrong enough to disregard the warnings about befriending a little god who might ensnare you with a curse. When you first met the young Satoru, everything around you turned a lovely sky blue. Little did you know that the very same thing happened to him, and you painted his life in shining gold-like sunlight.

[A Gojo Satoru x Reader fic, completed]

tags and content warnings: Gojo Satoru x (f) jujutsu sorcerer (rct user) reader, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates, original characters, manga spoilers, family drama, childhood trauma due to physical abuse, arranged marriages, canon-typical violence, naoya being a little creep. wc: 10.2k.

⚜ This fic will not use 'yn' and instead follow my usual naming convention. Please kindly see yourself out if you're uncomfortable with fics using placeholder names for the reader. I do not use 'yn' in any of my fics. I still use 'you'/second-person pronouns and write with a generic (f) reader in mind. I use "Otome" as a placeholder as it means maiden, or Maiden-chan, which pretty much translates to 'yn'.

✾ Fic Masterlist ✾ Chapter 1 — Twilight ✾ Chapter 3 — Ordinary Days ✾ ~Interlude~ — In the Quiet ✾ Chapter 4 — Side by Side ✾ Epilogue

— The Sun.

~ 1997.

It is said in the old times that a child is assumed to be a person of God until they reach the age of seven. By then, a little one should have a foundation of their soul and a heart of a human. Why was it that you only had a faith shaken by the very person who raised you and a heart hardened by your strange circumstances? 

About a month before your seventh birthday, Lady Suzuna tasked Kazuya and Chiemi to extend invitations to the children and young heirs and heiresses of the different sorcerer families. Seven was the perfect age to make friends and create lasting bonds, the most perfect opportunity to connect with other sorcerer children with similar experiences. It was an auspicious day for a birthday celebration as well, and what better way to commemorate your birth than formally announcing you as the official heir to the Koganei Clan leadership?

A day before the celebration, every servant in every corner of the ancient traditional home was busy preparing the Koganei Estate for the ingress of guests from sorcerer families and the clan's business partners alike. Everyone seemed to be in a constant state of movement while you and your mother leisurely walked around your home, the softness of your padded footsteps seemingly fading into the background of your family's busyness. 

"This tree was a gift to the city from our family back in the 1920s. It's grown remarkably well over time, but it is different from the rest of the ginkgo that line Meiji Jingu Gaien. The leaves of the trees outside fall and grow according to the season while ours remains the same all year round. I suppose we can attribute it to our cursed energy. Unlike other sorcerers, we make use of our power by healing, not so much exorcising," Suzuna stated, your smaller hand in hers as you took your time to walk around the estate's private gardens. The perennial aged ginkgo tree that has been there for as long as you can remember towered over your forms. Summer, spring, autumn, winter— regardless of the season, this tree remained alive and flourishing, its golden leaves constantly raining on this particular part of the estate. The tree has seen the coming and passing of former clan leaders, and you had no doubt in your mind that it will surely still be here by the time you pass away as well. "It's beautiful but resilient."

The afternoon breeze was cool against your ankles, the wind gently blowing through your striped yukata as you took measured steps beside your mother in this sectioned-off area of the garden. There was a sacredness to the tree's age now, and the family gardeners probably didn't want guests and strangers wandering in here and causing any hurt or damage to it.

"Otome, tomorrow is your birthday. I know you would have wanted to celebrate the day of your birth with your family— your real family… Which is why I asked Kanade-san to assist with tomorrow's preparations. She and I will help dress you in your celebratory clothes."

"Oh…" Your grip on the older woman's hand tightened, though you tried to hold your calm expression. "Th-Thank you very much for your consideration, okaa-sama."

"What did I tell you about your emotions, my girl?" The older woman shook her head, a slight tsk leaving her lips. "Your eyes are shining. I can tell you're about to cry tears of joy."

"I'm sorry," came your only response. Lying to her was never a good idea when the truth is already blatantly obvious to her. 

"I'll forgive you just this once since it's your birthday," Suzuna stated, a small smile gracing her painted lips now. "Ah, here she is."

Her comment made you look up from your path, and you felt her slowly turn you the other way, a kind hand on your back as she eventually let go of you. From across the garden stood your mother— the one who gave birth to you— in a muted mustard yukata, the family's standard servants' attire. 

"Good day to you, ojou-sama," came your birth mother's greeting as she bowed before you and the lady of the house. "And to the madam as well." 

"You may approach," came Suzuna's soft command. She gave you a gentle push toward the other woman. "And you may greet your mother." 

You tried desperately not to let the excitement show in your steps, but your sprint betrayed you as you happily hurled yourself into your mother's open arms. "Okaa-chan!"

The two women couldn't blame you for your reaction. You were only a child, still so clueless about the weight of the crown about to rest on your little head. And yet there was a certain maturity now evident on your face, the warmest of smiles on your lips as you hugged your birth mother. You happily buried your face in her chest, feeling the beat of her heart against your cheek. 

"Oh, how you've grown, my little love…" Mustard sleeves enveloped you in a warm embrace, but you did not cry even though you wanted to. You couldn't bring yourself to, even though her words were so similar to what your… stepmother— I suppose I could call Suzuna that— said mere moments ago. "Strong and lovely, just like our ginkgo tree."

Summer nights were like a spell itself. Something about the balmy weather and the trilling of the cicadas often drew people into some kind of trance. You were no different from those under summer's thrall even though you were born in this season. In fact, summer's magic seemed to be even more potent now than ever. On the night before your birthday celebrations, you found your little feet walking towards your family's secluded garden, the one where the ancestral ginkgo tree stood, towering over the still and silent estate. 

You had no idea what time it was, but you were awakened by the sound of soft crying coming from the foot of the tree. It was strange that no one else could hear it except you, even more so now that you were face to face with the weeping figure. 

It was a woman, one you haven't seen in the estate before. She did not wear the standard servants' attire but instead donned a lovely kimono in the shades of bamboo and sunrise. Something about her felt otherworldly as she paid no mind to your approach, her face concealed in the sleeves of her dress. 

"Are you all right? Why are you crying?" You asked her, though she did not respond. "Please don't be sad…"

The phantasm stilled at the sound of your concerned yet inquisitive voice, her arms slowly dropping to reveal her face to you. 

"You can see her?" Came a voice that was very much real this time you nearly jumped from your spot in shock. 

"O-Okaa-sama!"

Still in her sleepwear similar to yours, Suzuna approached you, mere steps away from the base of the tree where the crying woman stood. "Answer my question, daughter." 

Spirit sight is the most basic technique a child can develop before being able to fully harness cursed energy. At the same time, it is the most important skill a sorcerer requires in order to be able to harness cursed energy. 

"Yes… I-I only came here because I heard her, okaa-sama. No one else but you came to see her, too…"

"There is no need to be so nervous, daughter," Suzuna stated as she placed a hand on your head and gently ruffled your hair. "Do you know who she is?"

And children from sorcerer families who lack the most common ability that should be known to all sorcerers are no better than the average person. 

You shook your head in response to her question. 

"You and I descended from a pathetic man. We come from a long line of desperate people who wanted nothing but to prove their worth, even if it meant breaking the hearts of their loved ones," she said softly, holding the crying woman's gaze as she took your smaller hand in hers once more. "Uesugi Karui married for love and received nothing but heartache in return when she couldn't give birth to a child with Koganei Masahito's gift."

Uesugi Karui… You've heard that name before from one of your mother Kanade's bedtime stories. Karui was the first wife of the clan founder who bore him many children, all of whom he cast aside in favour of bastards who were fortunate enough to inherit his prized reverse cursed technique. Masahito's bloodline branched off into numerous families, and even Suzuna herself couldn't determine from which one she originated, even though she was certainly born into the main family. 

She could not relate to Karui's plight. How could she? When she herself decided to take a lover apart from her own husband out of sheer desperation. She sighed to herself, prompting you to look up at her. "I suppose I'm no different from that man, too." 

Karui's presence, after lying dormant for so long, only seemed to solidify the theory that she was here to curse the existing Koganei Clan, even though it has been hundreds of years since she last possessed the name. Suzuna last saw her when she was just a child herself and she had no guiding hand before like you did now.

"I know we aren't the only ones who can see you, but we are the only ones brave enough to ask," she told the unmoving phantasm, still rooted in her position at the base of the ginkgo tree. "Are you here to curse us? To curse… this child?" 

The spirit of the weeping woman moved ever so slightly, her approach toward you blocked by your stepmother. Suzuna shielded you from Karui by taking a step forward, hiding you behind her skirts. "If you're going to curse someone, curse me instead. This child is…"

Karui slowly shook her head in response to the other woman's statement. She moved to touch your forehead, smiling as you laughed at the ticklish cold that was her cursed energy. "It's true that I married for love, and even if I were to return to those days, I would not have it any other way."

Uesugi Karui was not at all a vengeful spirit, but simply a ghost still in unrest. 

"There are things you regret, Suzuna. Some of which are already far too late to take back," the lovely phantasm stated, the sadness in her eyes softening to a rueful expression. "However, it is not too late for her."

"I…" Suzuna's voice cracked. "I did what I had to do, as did you…"

"But did you do it out of love? Your obsession with duty will drive you to your grave early," Karui told her. "I am not a vengeful spirit, but there is a greater chance of that happening to you if you do not temper your expectations." 

Your mother's hold on you tightened ever so slightly. 

"I lived for many more years even after danna-sama passed away, and though my children and I were looked down on because none of them possessed their father's gift, I made sure to fill our home with so much love that they had no time to pay attention to every terrible thing being said about us," the phantasm stated, holding her hand out to you. You looked up at Suzuna once more, who only nodded at you in response. "I do not pass on any curse to you, young Koganei born with the gift. All I ask is for you to live your life with so much love that you have no room in your heart to curse anyone else. Not even your mother who gave you away, not even this mother of yours who has been cruel to you, not even your sister who wishes for your unhappiness, and not even those who wish to possess you for themselves." 

Karui's hand was cold as ice, yet there was a gentleness to her touch when she spoke to you, lulling you to sleepiness. You could not recall how you found your way back to your bed that night. When you awoke the following morning, your fingertips were freezing even though it was a rather warm day. 

"Good morning, ojou-sama," came an even warmer greeting. You smiled as you felt a gentle hand over your forehead, brushing away the hair that fell over your eyes. "Happy birthday to you."

The servants weren't any less busy despite all the preparations made yesterday. When the day of your seventh year finally came, it was time for the main family to do their job— welcoming and receiving their guests. While the Lady Suzuna was busy ensuring you were dressed in your very best for this day, it was her family who became the face and front of the clan, and she relied on her husband to hold the fort while she was still away.

Kazuya's father, Kaminari Kyouya, is the second-born son of his own sorcerer clan, one rich in magicians who practised lightning sorcery. He and Suzuna were childhood friends and he chose to marry into the Koganei Clan out of his great love for her. In fact, he loved his wife so much that he was willing to look the other way when she decided to have a child with another man. 

Kyouya and his children stood dutifully just outside the estate's genkan, warmly welcoming every guest that arrived with presents and blessings in tow for the heir's birthday. While Kazuya imitated his father's mild demeanour, Chiemi was growing tired of having to greet people she didn't know. She tugged at the older man's forest green hakama, looking up at him with wide and innocent eyes. 

"Papa, can you carry me?" She asked him, punctuating her question with a very sweet-sounding, "Please?"

He knew that this child wasn't his, yet he loved her all the same. How could he not? She had the very same eyes as her mother, the same ones he first fell in love with so long ago. He scooped up the little girl in her pink kimono and nuzzled her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Of course, my little Chi. Are you tired? We only have to do this for a bit more, then we can go back inside." 

Suzuna stepped out of the genkan to join her family in welcoming their guests. She wore an elegant kimono the same shade of forest green as her husband's attire. "Kyou, you ought to stop spoiling Chiemi. She's already five."

"Mama's being mean again, papa…" Chiemi buried her face deeper into the crook of her father's neck.

"I know, Chi. Don't worry about her," Kyouya murmured in reply to the girl with a pleased smile on his face. Perhaps five was already a bit too old to be carried, but he couldn't resist his daughter's pleading adoration. "We've been standing out here for quite some time now, Suzu. Besides, I don't mind holding my girl for a little while."

"That's not the point," Suzuna tried arguing. "Chiemi, you—"

"Oh, hush, you. Guests are arriving, so let's not argue here, please," he said with a chuckle even though he wanted to silence his wife. "Smile, Suzu. Here come the representatives from the Tokyo Saenome Clan."

And she did so, equally amused and equally annoyed at her husband's dismissal of their exchange. She greeted their guests pleasantly and it took her some time to realise there were only three of them by the entrance. "Now where did Kazuya run off to?"

The clever boy slipped away in the middle of his parents' bantering. Kazuya paid no mind to the servants bowing before him as he passed by them, his steps on the redwood engawa loud and impatient. He was eager to find you before any of the other guests did and was more than pleased to find you just about to step out of your room.

The shoji slid open, and you walked out with a measured step, not at all used to the weight of your outfit for the day— a crimson kimono embroidered with hundreds and hundreds of golden ginkgo leaves being blown by the wind.  

"Oh, Kazu-nii!" You happily greeted the older boy in the same forest green hakama as his father. 

"Happy birthday, Otome. May you always be blessed with good health and happiness all your days." 

"Thank you very much, Kazu-nii," you replied to him with a bow, remembering your stepmother's instructions from earlier today. Bow with gratitude. 

"This is for you," the boy handed you a gold-coloured omamori you recognised as something from the Meiji Shrine near your home. "A present, for good fortune." 

"Oh, thank you! I promise to treasure this," you stated rather excitedly before safely tucking the amulet into your obi, making it another accessory in your already intricate outfit for the day. 

"Bocchan, it's time for Otome-sama to see her guests," said the servant who assisted in dressing you. He recognised her as your birth mother. She wasn't in the standard servants' attire this time but in a kimono the colour of sunrise, the image of an aged tree with falling golden leaves printed on its front folds. 

Ah, the boy thought to himself. The older woman's dress was more similar to yours than his family's ensemble, even though you were part of his family. Then again, it was no secret to jujutsu society that you were not Koganei Suzuna's blood-born child, but one from the branch family. 

Kanade smiled at him. "Would you be willing to escort her to the audience hall?"

"O-Of course, Kanade-san!" Kazuya replied, an embarrassed expression on his face as he turned to meet your expectant eyes. He feigned a cough into his fist and offered you an elbow. "Shall we, then, my sister?" 

"Mm! Let's go!" 

You were aware that the celebration was by no means a simple one, but a grand honouring of your birth and your role as the future leader of your sorcerer clan. However, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the large number of guests that arrived to personally greet you today. The estate shoin was filled to the brim with unfamiliar people both young and old in more traditional attire in various colours and degrees of formality, and they rose to their feet to clap for you as you stepped into the audience hall in your brother's arm. 

The rumbling applause gradually died down as you took your place in the centre of the hall, surrounded by your immediate family— Suzuna, Kyouya, Kazuya, Chiemi, and your birth mother, Kanade. The two women each gave you a kiss on your cheek, while Kyouya gently placed an ornate glass kanzashi on your head. 

"Many happy returns of the day, Otome-chan," the older man greeted you with a smile, to which you replied with another. 

"Thank you very much, otou-sama."

The Koganei servants started to bring in the food and drink, allowing the older and elderly guests their meal as the children lined up before you, smiles on their faces and gifts in hand as they prepared to greet you. You felt no different from the hina dolls that adorned your family home, visitors paying you homage like a tiny goddess reborn from so long ago.

You sat seiza right in the middle, the sleeves of your crimson kimono reaching the golden tatami floor as you remained perfectly still, giving your newfound friends the occasional bow of gratitude as they approached in a neat line. You thanked each one who presented their gift to you, each decision made with great consideration for your person— Porcelain tea sets, freshly-made ichigo daifuku, a calligraphy set with a bottle of golden ink, a rose-coloured kinchaku, a tortoiseshell kanzashi— the presents piled up by the minute, but the line was disrupted by a dark-haired boy with the sharpest brown eyes, closely followed by a family attendant with a large ornate box in hand. 

"Happy Birthday, young lady of the Koganei house," he said with a smile. The boy wore a pressed white dress shirt underneath his navy blue kimono, and he effectively blocked your line of sight to ensure he had your full attention. "I am Zenin Naoya, son of Zenin Naobito. It is with great honour that I present to you a gift from our family."

The boy you only knew from your mother's narrative has finally made himself known. He was only a few months older than you, but he spoke with the eloquence of an elderly man with the hint of an old accent that slightly irked you. 

"Thank you very much, Zenin Naoya-sama," you stated with the same measured bow you gave everyone as you received the present from his servant. You were about to set it aside when he spoke again. 

"I would like for you to open it before everyone."

His statement prompted you to turn to Suzuna, who only nodded at you from across the room. Seeing her confirmation and the fact that she was still keeping an eye on your conduct reassured you, so you delicately unwrapped the present before the boy. It was a beautiful silk kimono the colour of flint, and finely embroidered with bright orange thread were the detailed feathers of a bird— which at first you thought was Suzaku, but upon closer inspection was something else entirely.

"That is Nue, one of the shikigami of our family's Ten Shadows Technique," Naoya stated rather proudly. "While I don't possess the technique and I am unable to summon it, that won't stop me from appreciating its beauty and said ferocity."

Talkative was the first impression the Zenin child left upon you. He was evidently proud of his heritage, but what good is all of that showmanship if he's rude to everyone else?

"It's beautiful, indeed. You have my gratitude for such a lovely present. I understand you took time off your day to visit me on my birthday and you wish to speak with me more, but it would be rude of me to hold the line even longer when every other guest here did the same as you," you replied to him with a pleasant smile that visibly flustered him. You lowered your head to a bow as Naoya slowly stepped away from you, cheeks flaming red in both embarrassment and infatuation, not that you were aware of the latter. 

"Huh. So he really was a brat," Suzuna murmured to herself as she watched from afar how you handled the very entitled Zenin child and put him in his place. She had her drink in hand as she sat across her husband and son, who were conversing about something else. A small hand gently tugged at her sleeve. 

"Did you say something, mama?" Asked Chiemi, who looked up to her with a measured head tilt that anyone would find adorable. 

"Nothing at all, Chiemi," the older woman replied, smiling as she tucked away a lock of her daughter's curly hair behind her ear. "Have you… greeted your sister a happy birthday today?"

"…Do I still have to? So many people are here for her already!" The little girl said with a pout. 

"I'm sure your greeting would mean a lot to her, Chi-chan," Kazuya piped in on his sister's conversation with their mother. "Look, Otome's about to take a step outside for a bit. Why don't we go see her?"

"I don't wanna!" 

Chiemi was fine left alone in a corner, Kazuya knew that much. Though he knew jealousy played a part, he still had a difficult time fully understanding why his sister felt that way about you. Whatever you had was given to her as well, even though you did not ask for any of it yourself. There were times Chiemi was given more, but it did not matter at all to you. You were happy to see that she was happy, and that seemed to incense her even more. 

Today was the only day you were given more than her and she tried to be on her best behaviour… Yet even after receiving the harshest scolding of her life about a month ago, nothing could stop Chiemi's ever-growing rage over her own family's preference for a daughter who shared no immediate blood ties with them.  

"Fine. I'll greet her. I'll greet her so you can shut up about it, onii."

There was little Kazuya could do except follow his little sister with haste as she got up and hurriedly trailed you out of the audience hall, the look on her face foreboding chaos.

"Chiemi!"

You were already a bit spent to notice the younger girl's approach. It wasn't at all easy sitting perfectly still and you overestimated your capability to remain in the same position for the rest of the day. As you stepped out of the hall and into the redwood engawa to take a moment to breathe and stretch your tired legs, you found yourself suddenly pushed from behind and falling off the edge of the walkway, the speed of your descent only quickened due to the weight of your outfit.

"Ojou-sama!" Came the panicked cry of your mother, who hurriedly tried to reach for you as you tipped off the engawa. 

"Chiemi, no!" Kazuya exclaimed as he eventually caught up with the girl in the pink kimono, encasing her in his arms to prevent her from acting any further. He was moments too late, however, as he found your figure lying face down on the ground. 

The fall wasn't that far, but it still hurt. You tried to make sense of things as they were unfolding at the moment, not at all letting your sister's actions affect your judgement. You expected her to pull a stunt like this today and you were right to think of your reaction thoroughly beforehand. "Okaa-chan, please take her away before people start to notice." 

"Haa?! Who do you think you are ordering people to— A-And don't you dare touch me, you—" 

The sound of Chiemi's shrieking complaints was drowned out when an unfamiliar voice asked you, "Are you okay?" 

You raised your head and found a slender hand outstretched to you. You grasped it and allowed this person to help you up on your feet again despite not knowing who they were. "I'm fine. Thank you very much."

It was a boy with eyes as blue as the clear ocean and hair like starlight. He held your gaze long enough for you to forget what just transpired, the intense and ethereal look in his eyes taking you someplace else— It felt like you were standing in the middle of the ocean, frigid snow blowing across your face yet it didn't hurt. More than anything, the sound of the waves and tides was comforting—

"You have some dirt on your face," he said, his voice pulling you back to reality and the incident that just occurred between you and your siblings. He brought the sleeve of his pale blue yukata to your cheek. "Ne, Kazuya, if this girl truly is as important as you say she is, why are you letting that kid smack her around?"

The unnamed boy's remark seemed to anger Chiemi even further, and she thrashed in her brother's arms. "I-I'm not just some kid! I am Koganei Chiemi! Koganei Suzuna's true daughter, the beauty—"

"Blah, blah, blah. Is that it? You expect people to bend over backwards for you just because you're pretty?" He rolled his eyes at the younger girl. "I'm not into whiny little brats like you."

"W-Wait, Satoru," came Kazuya's sudden plea. "Please don't—"

"I'll pretend I never saw anything here, but I suggest you keep the feral animals in their cages," stated Satoru, the boy in the blue yukata. He pulled something from out of his sleeves and handed it over to you. "This is for you, Koganei girl. Happy birthday."

He found his way up to the audience hall and eventually disappeared into the crowd. You opened the slender box in your hands, evidently mystified as you laid eyes on his gift: a set of prayer beads the colour of the clear ocean.

The Lady Suzuna patiently waited until evening, until all the guests have been sent off, to handle the incident that occurred between you and Chiemi earlier in the day. Other family members knew better than to get in the way of the matriarch's warzone-like discipline. 

"How many times must I tell you, Chiemi? You speak out of turn and expect everyone to be gracious with you, is that it?" She stated, her voice calm and firm even as her daughter squirmed away from her grasp. "You're fortunate Otome made the right choice to send you away rather than stoop down to your level of immaturity."

You begged for lenience for the younger girl but were faced with the older woman's fury just as much as she was angry with her own daughter.   

"Okaa-sama, please… This… solves nothing. You said it yourself. She'll just keep on hating me…" You pleaded, writhing in agony as you clutched your stomach after being kicked away. You were not able to defend yourself well this time. "I promised to never curse anyone, not even her…"

"I will beat the anger out of Chiemi until she understands that she is not the only daughter I have," the older woman said, her palm landing angrily on the younger girl's bottom. "I asked her to behave herself for one day—"

"Koganei-sama," came the voice of an elderly servant from outside the room. "My apologies for interrupting… There is a messenger from the Gojo Clan waiting for you."

"What?!" Suzuna hissed. Why the Gojo Clan of all people? She had no answers and only grew even angrier at the thought of you misbehaving yourself before the son of the prominent clan. "Otome! Did you do anyth—"

"I-I didn't—!"

"If I may, my lady," the servant continued. "It seems their young master has taken an interest in Otome-ojou. Satoru-sama is inviting her to the G—" 

Satoru wants to see me again? But why?

"Leave us!" The older woman commanded, to which the servant replied with a faint acknowledgement and the scurrying away of padded feet. She slumped to the floor, dropping Chiemi in the process. She was obviously at her wit's end now and she needed answers. "You spoke to him?"

You sat up and straightened your back, taking a deep breath before responding to her question. "Yes, okaa-sama. He— Gojo-sama— helped me to my feet when I… fell off the step earlier." 

"That child is not your ordinary boy. His birth changed the balance of the jujutsu world. He is like a little god," Suzuna stated, a sigh of exhaustion leaving her painted lips. "And you, a little goddess in his midst."

This wasn't news to her. Gojo Satoru isn't the first boy to show an interest in her heir. However, she had no idea whether or not this invitation was truly from the little god himself or if it was the working of other elements. 

"Normally, you would be allowed to visit another clan's residence, but we're talking about one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans here…" she started. You sat quietly as the older woman rattled out fact after fact. You were so focused on self-preservation that neither of you noticed Kazuya slip into the room to take Chiemi away again. "…And not to mention that bounty on the boy's head… Then again, the Gojo Clan is said to live in an impregnable fortress."

No matter how silly or boyish that whim may be, it would be foolish to send her there on her own, Suzuna thought to herself, long and hard before she eventually turned to you. 

"I told you before that I tire of making all the decisions here. That's why I'm asking you now— What do you want, Otome? Do you wish to see that boy again?" 

But you knew it wasn't just a matter of wanting to see him again— though admittedly, you actually did. So you answer her question truthfully. "I would like to meet him again, if that is all right with you, okaa-sama." 

It was a surprisingly wise answer, proof that you still considered her word above your own desires. She beckons you to approach, her hand gently gliding through the hair over your forehead in order to push it upward. "Then I suppose we do as the little god requests." 

Yet an epiphany washes over her all of a sudden as she holds you in her arms. Who does that child think he is? Asking for my heir, of all things… "…Or maybe not."

The shoreline was covered with a carpet of freshly fallen snow. It wasn't at all cold, though, as you traversed through the snowscape, your feet sinking deep with every step you took. There was someone walking a few steps ahead of you, a hand reaching out for yours. 

"Ngh…" You groaned to yourself as the sunlight of the new day filtered through the shoji leading to the garden just outside your bedroom. 

The little god that was Gojo Satoru was in your dreams that same night for some odd reason— he and his hair like snow and starlight and those eyes that seemed to see right through you— 

"Hey, are you awake already?" 

Huh. He sounds so real here, too… No, I could have sworn I was awake— "Huh?…"

"It's rude to keep your guest waiting, you know."

Wait, what?

You bolted up from your futon, your comfortable sleep cut short by the quiet arrival of the boy that was in your dreams mere moments ago. "Y-You—!"

"Hello, Koganei girl," said the boy who was seated on the tatami right beside your bed. He was very much here and very much present in your bedroom right now. "Good morning! I thought you'd never wake up!"

"Wh-What are you…" You stammered at him, rubbing your eyes until stars appeared and blinking— "You're really here!"

The shoji slid open, with Kazuya storming into your bedroom. It was only then you realised they were in matching white gi, which could only mean— "Satoru! You said you'd train with me first thing in the morning!"

"Whoops! I did say that, didn't I?" Satoru stated before eventually shrugging at the other boy. "But you knew I came here for her first and foremost, Kazuya."

"That's beside the point! I— Oh, good morning, Otome!" Your older brother paused from his declaration when he saw you finally up. "You remember Satoru, right? He'll be staying here for a week."

"That's because your mom didn't allow you to visit me," the silver-haired boy said with a pout. "But I'm here now. Aren't you glad?" 

"Huh? Oh, uh…" 

"Satoru!" 

Kazuya's impatient huffing prompted the other boy to rise from his seat. He moved toward you slightly, as though he wanted to reach for your hand but decided against it. Instead, he beamed at you rather confidently before eventually declaring, "Let's talk later. I'm just gonna wipe the floor with you brother so he'll leave me alone."  

"Is that so?" Your brother responded with a laugh as they exited your room, their boisterous, boyish laughter filling the still-quiet halls of the estate. You rose from your futon and opened the shoji leading outside to the garden, where you were greeted by the glare of the morning sun and your family's perennial ginkgo tree.  

You weren't brought to the little god's home like he expected. That wouldn't stop him from seeing you again, though. So instead, he came to yours. 

The estate became a hive of activity once more after Suzuna agreed to play host to the young heir of the Gojo Clan not long after your very first encounter. It was no surprise that the boy was spoiled rotten by his own family and the Koganei tried its best to keep up with his every wild and wily demand. Fortunately, Satoru did not ask for much apart from time with you. 

A lot of time, to be precise. 

Satoru agreed to stay over at the Koganei Estate on the condition that he trains with Kazuya every morning and follows his exact same daily routine. Kyouya remarked that he was a surprisingly diligent pupil despite his mischievous overtone. 

He had the most attentive eye on you when the two of you shared lunch in the dining hall that day. 

"G-Gojo-sama, is something—" You nervously started as you sat across from him. He cut you off as soon as he heard the way you addressed him.

"Satoru," he stated plainly. "That's my name. Don't call me Gojo-sama because it's like you're referring to my father or some other old fart."

The boy sat across from you, happily helping himself to a bowl of piping hot rice and carefully deep-fried golden brown tiger prawn tempura. The yukata he wore now had a pattern of navy blue seigaiha, reminiscent of the tides and waves in your dreams.

"Koganei girl—" 

It was your turn to interrupt him. "My name is actually…" 

You gave him your name. It embarrassed you how easily it rolled out of his mouth, like he's known it all his life. 

"Your hairpin," he said, pointing to your head. "Did you know that it's a tsukumogami?" 

"What?"

Your stepfather's gift to you was a delicate glass-blown kanzashi. When you pulled it out of your hair to inspect it more closely, you saw the fine craftsmanship and the intricate azure blue beads and gold trimmings that adorned it. Though you were certain you were holding it carefully, the hairpin fell to the tatami floor, followed by a gentle stream of cursed energy that seemed to emanate from it. It didn't take long for the object to finish its gradual morphing, taking on its human form as the legends say. 

A woman in an elegant azure kimono now sat before you, a tender smile on her face as she met your curious gaze. "You're friends with a very shrewd boy, child of Suzaku. Though I suppose nothing can get past those mystic eyes of his." 

"O-Oh!"

"You may call me Marin. I have served your family for time immemorial as a guardian spirit of sorts. My presence has been restored for this very purpose: to serve as your protector in times when your family cannot," she stated, prostrating herself before you. "It would be an honour to accompany you on your life's journey, aruji-sama."  

"I… I'd like to know this first," you started, trying to hide the quell in your voice. "You called yourself a guardian spirit. I've never heard of you before, though…"

Marin raised her head, the same kind smile on her face even as you questioned her. "That is because I was sealed away, only to be awakened once my master awakens as well. And it has been… three hundred years since I last saw my master, the one who possesses Suzaku." 

"Otome is not the same master you served before, tsukumogami. She might possess the same ability as your old master, but she is a different person altogether," Satoru interjected. 

"I am well aware of that fact, little godling of the Gojo family," the woman stated. "That is why I wish to accompany her on her life's work— in order for us to have a better understanding of each other, and for me to glean more knowledge about the world at present… If she will have me, of course."

"Of… Of course, Marin-san! I… I would be honoured to have you as well!" You told her, taking her hands in yours. The guardian spirit was evidently touched by your trust. It was pure and child-like, a currency in itself that is absolutely priceless. 

"I thank you, aruji-sama. Remember you have only but to call me and I will be there," she replied, lifting your hands to her lips in reverence. "For now, I bid you farewell. I am only an arm's length away from you. Always."

Marin's cursed energy condensed itself once more, housing itself in the elegant hairpin until nary a trace of her human form remained. Satoru lifted it from the tatami and scooted over to your side, pinning it back to your pulled-up hair. 

"Thank you…"

"Huh. You're really like the sun," he said. You couldn't help but cock your head in confusion at his statement, earning yourself another one of his boyish grins. "You know that sorcerers like us have different kinds of energies, right? We can see and even sense traces of it… but it's different when you touch. I… don't normally let other people touch me, so I was surprised when I held your hand and saw that instead." 

"That?"

"It was said that when you touch someone and you see colours, you're touching that person's very soul." 

What? "Really?"

"When I held your hand yesterday… It felt like I was looking at numerous rays of the sun. It was all golden! But my eyes didn't hurt at all."

"Oh…" 

He suddenly raised a hand to his nape, a sheepish expression gracing his features. "Did you… see any colours when we held hands?" 

"I saw the sea… and snow," you told him truthfully. "Like a splash of blue." 

There was a curious twinkle in his eyes when you spoke of the vision from yesterday. He looked… rather pleased with himself.

"I'm glad that's the case!" He stated, his confidence returning as he happily rocked back and forth, not at all making an effort to mask his giddiness. "I'm really glad I came here! Even though I have to spend most of my mornings with Kazuya…" 

So he came seeking answers, you thought to yourself. Satoru grew surprisingly warm and comfortable around you afterwards. He remained a diligent student to your stepfather for the rest of his stay as well. He gladly sparred with Kazuya now and even let him win on occasions, though he took no pleasure in going easy on him. Satoru was a prodigious child and Kazuya soon came to realise that even if he mastered Raiden and his inherited Lightning Rod Sorcery, he can never best a little god born perfect. 

On the other hand, Satoru wanted nothing to do with your sister, even though she insisted that they started off on the wrong foot. 

"That boy is so… enamoured with you, my girl. It's rather strange," Suzuna absentmindedly commented as she permitted you to exit the room through the shoji leading to the garden, where the silver-haired boy spent most of the afternoons waiting for you to conclude your basic studies with your mother and governess, his excitement not at all waning as the days passed. 

On his final evening at the Koganei Estate, Satoru slipped past the night patrol and hurriedly made his way to your bedroom, his mischievous, catlike smile glimmering in the dark of the night.

"Shh," the boy with hair like starlight raised an index finger to his lips. "Let me stay here tonight." 

And he spoke. Even as the moon hung high in the night sky, he spoke about anything and everything that came to his mind, even though you had no idea what he was talking about. Despite his sheltered existence, Satoru was intelligent and worldly, and he spoke of things you had yet to see outside your gated home, things he wanted you to see with your own eyes, things he wanted to see with you— to experience with you. You. 

"Do you want me to come back for you when we're older?" He asked, no longer embarrassed by the yawn that left his mouth. He lied down beside you just outside your futon, your small hands slightly touching. 

"Or maybe I'll find you," you replied with a small smile on your face. You were sleepy, but the thought of him leaving tomorrow gave you the strength to fight back the urge to drift off into a dream. 

"Fine by me," the boy nodded, a grin on his face that eventually widened into another yawn. 

Satoru fell asleep first. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that he was there— the one who touched your soul and saw sunbeams. Perhaps he was waiting to meet you in the space between dreams and the waking world. When you reached for his hand, a tender wave of calmness washed over you, just enough to lull you to sleep as well. 

When morning came, neither of you was bothered by the sound of thundering footsteps through the estate halls, the panicked whispers of "where could he be" being passed around by family members, sorcerers, and servants alike. 

It amused Suzuna, who knew exactly where the little god was— unbothered and sound asleep right next to her child, the one who touched his soul and saw the sea and the sky— their tiny fingers warm and intertwined. 

~ 2004.

Your life as the young heir of the leadership of the Koganei Clan was composed of many hours of learning and training from your mother and family elders, as well as a series of encounters and misencounters with the different children of the numerous sorcerer clans both major and minor. Many grew to respect you and your presence at gatherings, saying you earned the right to sit at that table with all the hard work you've put into becoming a worthy heir, while others remained ambivalent that a girl would be a clan leader. When you turned fourteen, Lady Suzuna started taking you with her to clan leader gatherings. The invitations to such meetings never ceased and became a part of your life as well, earning you allies and opportunities to continue proving your mettle.

When wintertime rolls in, signifying the start of the new year, the venue for clan leader gatherings is reset, and the representatives of sorcerer families near and far converge to Kyoto— the heartland of jujutsu society— to the fortress-like estate of the esteemed Zenin Clan. 

Zenin Naobito inherited leadership of the Zenin Clan from his elder brother in 1999, shocking onlookers that the role was passed down to a sibling and not to offspring. But upon closer examination of their circumstances, it only made sense for the leadership to be passed on to someone who excelled in sorcery and had a knack for politicking. 

Naobito's nephews— the rugged and apathetic Jinichi, and Toji— did not fit those qualifications at all. Toji, most especially, since he was known to have been born with no cursed energy at all, making him an anomaly in his own family. He seemed to exist outside the cycle of cursed energy and his senses made up for his lack of it. 

Toji has since left the Zenin Clan on his own accord. Whatever is known about him now is considered lore— and most of the time, fiction. 

Esteemed as they were in the eyes of everyone in jujutsu society, none of their living family members have inherited their most prized Ten Shadows Technique. Naobito was said to have conceived his youngest son, Naoya, as a final attempt to manifest their family's truest hope of regaining their power from ages ago. Alas, that was not the case at all, for his son inherited a form of sorcery so ghastly similar to his that it felt a bit like mockery. 

If it was any consolation, Naoya was exceedingly intelligent and gifted in his own right, perhaps even more talented than his older brothers. Naobito saw in him a strength that reflected his own— and the smarts to go with it. It was too bad his own pride and entitlement spoiled whatever personality he had. His ongoing infatuation with the girl who possessed Suzaku did not help his moral argument, either. 

It was never his character to patiently wait, but he did so with you. Naoya tried to mask his elation with anything other than that when he saw you enter the shoin with your mother. 

Ah, the strange thing you did to his silly little heart. His uncle Jinichi chuckled at how motionless he stood next to his father. He followed the boy's line of sight and—

"Don't look at her, you dirty old man," Naoya hissed at his uncle. He couldn't blame the older man, though. The way you carried yourself now was even more refined than ever— to think that you could improve even more from that time you put him in his place— and that sprig of gladiolus tucked in your hair… 

Naoya imagined himself backing you into a corner, the sheen of your gold kimono dissipating as you fell into the shadows of the more quiet parts of their estate—

"Does your father know you're a horny little shit?" Came his uncle's remark, followed by a low and rumbling chuckle. It was a joke meant to sound like an insult, but the boy's enraged expression only meant that Jinichi was spot on. 

You could sense eyes on you from across the grand audience hall, and you were greeted by Naoya with a smile, one you hadn't seen in a long while. He looked surprisingly antsy in his spot beside his father and uncles, turning in your direction every once in a while. The meeting was an exchange of views between leaders and was meant to be boring for the youngsters. All of it will make sense in the future, Suzuna whispered to you earlier. 

A recess was called and you took that as an opportunity to stand up and stretch your legs. And perhaps encounter someone… 

That someone you had in mind was not Naoya. 

He greeted you with the same eloquence and warmth so akin to his father that it felt like you were talking to an older man. "Hello, Otome-san." 

"Naoya-sama," you replied to him with a low bow. "It's good to see you again." 

"It certainly is. And seein' you here is such a delight because you are definitely a sight for sore eyes," he stated. 

"Oh, um… I'm glad to know I brighten up the room if that's what you mean." 

Pretty, pretty, pretty— For Naoya, you were so devastatingly pretty that it killed him inside not to have you to himself. He wanted to hold you. "That is entirely true and exactly what I meant. You… Has anyone ever told you that you'd look so nice as a bride? Not now, exactly, but…"

"E-Excuse me?" 

"You're fortunate to have a brother capable of handling things in your family in case you must leave in order to marry," Naoya continued with his seemingly half-brained monologue, only for it to be cut short by your sharp interjection. 

"I'm sorry, but that's not going to happen at all," you replied to him, correcting his misconception about your presence there today. "I stand here before you as your equal, an heir to a house of sorcery." 

You tempered your emotions, keeping them in check in hopes they won't show on your face. However, it got the better of you when Naoya tried to reach for your hand and you suddenly took a step back. He recognised that look on your face as one of horror and disgust. 

Disgust, of all things. One single look made him feel entirely pathetic and hurt and his bruised ego wanted to make you feel just as bad. 

"I see. So that's how it is. You do know the entire reason why yer family still exists is because of your mother's a sycophant. In case you didn't know what that means, it—"

But you had the same sharp look in your eyes, not at all deterred by the fact he veiled his comment with an insult. "I know what that means, Naoya-sama." 

"Everyone in his meeting is aware of what kind of person your mother is, you know. She'd have done everyone a favour by handing over the reins to her husband or her son. It won't be long 'til your family is driven to its own ruin by her own making, and I'll be there when she puts you up for bidding— the heir of a family no better than that of insects—" 

Thwack. 

It was a strange feeling. You did not punch him in the face with your dominant hand yet he was sent two steps back. 

"You—!"

"You called me the bride of a family of insects yet you can't seem to get me out of your mind," you said, the adrenaline pumping through your body as you seized the collar of his dress shirt. "If this is how you intended to win me over, you are pathetically naive."

You pushed him off the engawa and jumped at him while he was down, preventing him from thrashing away from you. 

The unearthly shriek that the other youths heard from the outside of the shoin prompted them to rush outside, everyone present surprised by the scuffle that was ensuing between the girl in the golden kimono and the young master of the house.

The boy had a hand in your now-messy hair as you sat atop his finely-clothed figure, driving your fists into his face in a blind rage. You were hardly an image of gracefulness right now but you were too incensed to give a fuck. 

"Who the hell do you think you are?! Do you think you can just call my family trash and get away with it?! I'm not just a pretty face like you say I am, you piece of—"

You were quickly pulled away from the dark-haired boy by your fellow young ladies, who struggled to pull you back as you tried to rip away from their hold with nothing but fury boiling your blood. The young Zenin boy got on his feet, seething as he was held back by his clansmen from approaching you again.

"This isn't over, Koganei!"

"Grow a fucking backbone, Zenin!"

The scolding you received when you arrived back home at the Koganei Estate was unlike any other. Princess as you were in the eyes of your clansmen, Suzuna considered your recent actions as inappropriate for a future clan head and had you punished for it. The ripped and dirtied kimono from this morning's incident was taken off of you and cast into a fire despite your protests. 

Suzuna was tired. It had been far too long since she last admonished you for something. You were doing so well, after all, following her example and learning from her firsthand. She knew within herself that any corporal punishment she would mete out to you will only embolden you further. 

The two of you sat quietly in her den, the very same place where she would often discipline you as a child. She ordered not to be disturbed by anyone in order to fully understand what was running through your head that afternoon when you decided to smack Zenin Naoya in the face. 

"I have no words for what I just saw, Otome," she stated. "What… What exactly happened back then? Why on earth did you punch Zenin Naobito's heir, of all people?" 

You sat seiza, silent and dignified like she always instructed. Your lip was split open and you could taste salt and dried blood on the tip of your tongue even though you did not open your mouth to speak. 

"You don't deserve the prestige that comes with the position if you're going around acting like a wild boar!" 

"I know you've said time and again to accept everything thrown at us with grace, but I cannot! I will not… I will defend our family's honour even with my bare hands! I…" You shouted back, fists shaking as you tried desperately to swallow the lump in your throat. You have mastered the art of holding back your tears out of fear of upsetting this woman, your mother— Lady Suzuna, but the rage that made your blood boil spilled carelessly in your words. "Zenin Naoya told me that a family led by a woman will only be driven to its own ruin, that we're only fortunate enough to still be standing because of your own pandering to the elders of jujutsu society! He called the Koganei trash! He— How dare he discredit what you've done for this family!…"

Once again, you amaze your mother with your quick wit, though she expected you to act more wisely. The fact that you were defending your clan's honour was not lost to her, but that mattered little now after the tussle that transpired. "That was nothing to lose your patience over, Otome. I told you that getting upset over trivial things is—"

You looked at her with furrowed brows and disbelief. "It wasn't trivial to me, okaa-sama! He insulted you! To that extent, he's insulted our whole family! Why are you being so nonchalant about this?!"

Suzuna wanted to implode. Seeing your untapped rage finally reach its tipping point forced her to evaluate you as her heir, but more importantly, as a person. Your progress— who you are now— is exactly who she wanted you to be. You had better control of your emotions now, a firmer grasp and understanding of the power of your tears, yet she wished you handled your anger better than just throwing your hands at other people. 

And other people happened to be the honoured son of one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans. 

"Because at the end of the day, we small, insignificant clans are powerless against those giant madhouses. They don't like seeing difference,  anything out of the ordinary— they most certainly do not like seeing women fighting back. No matter how skilled you grow…  Those— Those men can crush us, Otome."

The tremble in Suzuna's voice broke your spirit. Did she not defend this family in her own way? If your self-preservation meant pandering to those above her, she still did so with grace and poise, embodying the beauty and resilience of the ginkgo tree your family takes so much pride in.

She sighed in exhaustion, both physically and mentally. "That brat was obviously infatuated with you. I could tell from the way his eyes followed your every movement. You could have just accepted his compliments…"

You prostrated yourself before her, lowering your head until it touched the tatami. "I'm truly sorry, okaa-sama. I thought I defended our honour but all I did was tarnish it with my rashness. I will accept any punishment doled out to me as you see fit." 

"That won't be necessary. You… did what you thought was right. It wasn't, but you believe yourself to be entirely justified. Keep that conviction of yours, Otome. You have that thing you said that brat didn't," Suzuna shook her head in defeat, a small smile gracing her face despite knowing you were in deep shit. "A backbone."

In the morning that followed, as you were having breakfast in the dining hall with your family, a message of apology and a single box of delectable Royce' Nama Chocolates were delivered by a Zenin messenger. You awaited retribution but all you received was a sweet and a sorry. 

"Naobito-sama sends his regards— and his apologies for Naoya-sama's poor treatment of the young lady Koganei," said the Zenin messenger as they handed over the box of candy to a Koganei servant. "In line with this, Naoya-sama is inviting the young lady Koganei back to Kyoto—"

"No," you stated plainly.

Suzuna nearly jumped from her spot as you conversed with the messenger at the genkan. "O-Otome! What are you saying?!"

Oddly enough, the more you rebuffed Naoya, the more he seemed desperate to ensnare you.

"If Naoya-sama truly wishes to apologise to me and mend our strained relationship, he will come here to the Koganei Estate in person to see me," you told the confused Zenin messenger. "That is all." 

They left in haste carrying nothing but your response to their master's measly excuse of an apology. 

Chiemi couldn't believe her eyes. You were never one to make demands of anyone and it annoyed her to see you acting so audaciously. To see you acting just like her mother, fitting into your role as heir like a snug mitten.

"You've grown awfully confident with yourself, onee-sama. Naoya-sama has done nothing but woo you for the last few years and yet you still punched him in the face," she piped in. "I take it he said some awful things about our family, but he was definitely just teasing you. I suppose you think you're above him now—"

"…t up…"

"What?" She asked, her nose crinkling at your inaudible response. "See? That's the thing with women like you. You always forget your place…"

You couldn't bear to listen to her droning until she said something that made your blood boil once more. 

"Oh, I know! Why don't I go to Kyoto in your stead? We are sisters, after all, and Naoya-sama might find my company more pleasant than you—"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! For once in your life, shut up, Chiemi!" You screamed at the other girl's face, shaking her shoulders so hard that she dropped to her knees in total shock. All those years of tormenting you and you finally snapped at her. "You can hate me all you want now, but you will thank me eventually! I'd never marry that man even if Suzaku himself commanded me to! And I'm not about to let you waltz into your misery, either!"

🌻 Author's notes: — I am once again apologizing for this chapter's length. I wanted to keep on expanding and expanding this universe further, and accidentally hit 10.2k words. — I think Naoya being a little creepy in the final part of this chapter is pretty on-brand. Don't get me wrong, I love him a lot. I just happened to love Gojo more. We will see more of Naoya in the coming chapters and continue breaking his teeny little heart more.

✦ This fic has since been edited to signify its completion. Thank you very much for your support!

✦ Asleep Among Endives Masterlist ✦

🌻 tag list: @woozzz

[localplaguenurse]

"You really couldn't wait that long?"

Just a quick little thing based off of this ask as well as this one specifically. Can be read as a stand alone fic though it still applies to my Morax fic. Not beta read, sfw.

As the patron Archon of Liyue, Morax is tasked with guiding and protecting his people. From slaying monsters to making and fulfilling deals to creating currency, he is to do what is right for the people. In exchange, they provide him with worship and praise and gifts, ranging from simple prayers to building monuments in his honour.

That's where you find yourself this sunny, quiet afternoon.

When Morax is away fulfilling his duties as Archon, you like to draw or go on nice walks. When his duties drag on a little longer than expected, you often find yourself coming to his statues. They're the closest thing to your husband you can get until he returns home.

It takes you a bit, but you manage to scale the statue itself. Carefully, you seat yourself in his stone lap. You set your bag down next to, pulling out your sketchbook and art supplies, as well as the lunch you made ahead of time.

The first time you did it, you were ashamed for letting your impulsive thoughts get the better of you, and worried about the embarrassment of being caught. You also chastised yourself for being so clingy you would climb onto a stone imitation of your beloved because he's a day or two late. You eventually got over that, but you'd still die if he knew.

For a large stone statue, it's actually surprisingly comfortable. You spend most of your afternoon sitting on his lap, sketching the landscape, eating lunch, and simply enjoying the sunshine. It's rather relaxing.

"I wonder when Morax will be back," you murmur, simply just filling the quiet air.

"I've been back for quite a while now."

When you nearly leap out of your skin and off of the statue, familiar hands grabbed you and pull you back into a much softer, much warmer lap. Morax just smiles down at you, and you feel your face catch fire. When did he get back? When did he find you? How long has he been watching you?

He chuckles. "Could you really not wait a little longer for me to return?"

"I-I, uh, haha, I um..." You hide your face behind your hands. "I-I didn't see you there."

"Do you prefer the statue over me?" he asks.

"N-No," you tell him, "b-but you were taking a long time and... I-I was lonely."

He laughs once more, and you feel him press a kiss to your scalp. "I'll try to be more mindful of how clingy my little wife is."

"I am not c-clingy."

"Of course you aren't. That's why you're sitting on my statue's lap, right?"

[gotta-pet-em-all]

[An audio file is attached. Would you like to listen?

"Okay. So this is going to keep recording your voice while we talk," Pine explains.

"Fascinating," says someone, muffled slightly as if behind glass. "I’ve seen photography cameras that can preserve images, but now they can do the same with voices?"

Fluff gives a short laugh. "Yeah. You can even take videos. If you want, after this I can show you some of my little feather baby Cari! She’s a togetic."

"I see… I need a moment."

"Ah, sorry. Is it overwhelming?"

A pause where a shrug might be. "Not really. The ginkgo guild would frequently have us take time to organize, with only minimal local contact after we reached a new place. So I don’t mind the quarantine much, unlike my neighbors."

"Oh shit, we haven't introduced ourselves," Fluff realizes. The audio file cuts to elevator music for a moment.

"Volo Ward, merchant of the Ginkgo Guild. Typically, you’re supposed to introduce yourself by where you’re from, but I don’t exactly have that. So my occupation will have to do."

"So you traveled?" Pine asks, sounding excited. "What sort of places did you see? What kind of cultural differences did you notice?"

"The damned Kalosians, I swear. They have the best textiles, so we’d buy things wholesale from them to distribute, but they didn’t standardize their textile names. So you had to go to six suppliers and get seven names for the same fabric. We had to recruit someone to help us label them. Apparently there’s a general name, and then there’s the local name, and you need both. Ah, what else… in Paldea, the roads aren’t traveled much after dark, so the local kids will play on the roads outside of their houses. I was allowed to join in, once I’d finished my chores."

Fabric rustles for a moment before Pine asks, "Do you recognize what this is for?"

"Oh!" Volo sounds pleasantly surprised. "I used to play with those all the time as a kid. Why is it labeled a ritual object?"

"I think that’s something archaeologists do when they don’t want to admit that they don’t know what’s going on," Fluff says, with all the confidence of someone who knows only what she's been told about archaeology by people who are thoroughly pissed at the field but love it anyways.

"Not to be petty but I am going to demolish some of the ignorant old quacks in this field," Pine says, very quietly, with malicious intent.

"As you should!" A muffled thump. "It’s a beautiful field that’s been tainted by ignorance and racism from old men who think they know better than anyone else and treat it as a curiosity rather than giving it the love it deserves. Ah-- apologies. I didn't mean to get that heated."

"Oh, our partner would love to chat with you," Fluff says confidently. There follows a few moments of audible confusion before Volo seems to remember non-monogamy as an option.

"So, ah. I’m afraid I’ve never been up to date on the culture around me, so you might want to ask one of the sisters if you can get them to talk to you. They like gold, but they’ll take food too. Hm… I could tell you about my job?"

"With the Ginkgo Guild? What sort of wares did you typically sell?"

"Hm, lots of potions recently. Things are changing, and pokemon are-- were, ah, seen as beings to live alongside, rather than to fear and revere and only use for one’s own purposes. Medicinal leeks were the bread and butter of our trade."

"They’re endangered in the wild now," Fluff says, almost apologetically. "Overharvesting. They had to synthesize an alternative."

"...I see. You used to be able to find them wherever there was a shady spot under a tree. Near rivers, too. I’ll miss them. When I was a kid, I learned that if I got a cut, I could just snap off a little bit of the stem and rub it on, and it would keep the wound from going sour."

Pine makes a confused noise. "Wait, how old are you? Or is this a thing where the age of majority was different?"

"Twenty-six," Volo says flatly. There is an long pause. "I look about as old as your friend, I know."

"Wait, how old do you think I am?" Fluff asks. "To clarify. I thought you might be.... twelve?"

"You look maybe thirteen."

"Nineteen. Actually," she says tiredly. "Chronic baby face, I’m looking forward to getting grey hairs. My condolences."

A pause, as Volo searches for the right words. "The timespace distortion changed me. And my pokemon as well. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it."

"Are you okay with talking about the Nobles and their purpose, then? If you'd rather not talk about yourself."

Volo makes a vague noise. "Rei would know more than me. Ah, but he and I aren't on speaking terms at the moment. I don’t really exactly have any desire to go back. All of us are here because we chose to leave Hisui behind, after all."

"Wasn't it... your home? Or, I know you roamed, but an entirely new era can't be easy to adapt to...."

"It won't be, no. But I’m looking for a fresh start. I suppose I was looking for the approval of someone who was supposed to watch over me and my family. But it never happened. I waited all that time, but I was never worth coming back for."

"…your dad?" Fluff guesses.

"No. A deity," Volo says dryly. "Ah, what’s the modern term? A deadbeat dad."

Pine makes a choked laugh. "I-- you're not wrong."

"Well, uh. Welcome to Pasio. I made bread?" Fluff offers.

"I saw that," Volo says, sounding amused. "Thank you. I'm likely going to wait out my containment in here, and then explore, see what this new world has to offer."

There's the sound of a door opening, and a new voice. "Hey, uh. Are you guys about finished up? I was going to visit my cousin real quick."

"That's all right. I think I was just finished here," Volo says. "Clover? Could you please tell Rei his cousin is here to visit?"

Video ends.

[geopsych]

Progress report: the ginkgoes are Getting There.

[foxblood]

The Threads of Memory: II In Case of Rain

Chapters: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25

The bronze guise of Silvanus reached an arm across the marble arch for Meilikki, and she on the other end of the pillar pulled her bowstring taut and aimed an arrow at his heart wreathed in oak leaves.  The plaque above their heads announced “University of Waterdeep Botanic Gardens”.  An old couple sat on the benches beneath the gate, shoulders close together behind the half-sodden pages of the Waterdeep Digest.  Beyond them, the manicured meadow entry and gardens beyond swayed red and gold against the mist that settled heavily over the Castle Wards as it blew in from the ocean.  Gale took his place on the vacant bench beneath the entrance and pulled his robes tighter around him as the damp worked its way through the wool.

He crossed his ankles and dug a pamphlet out of his pocket.  The pages felt thick and sluggish in the humidity when he turned them, the cover advertising the 10th release of the Journal of the Netheril Archaeological Society.  After each line of self-important text, he glanced at the entrance until Velim appeared on the path and stood up to greet them, retaining nothing from the pamphlet.

Velim looked both ways as they crossed under the entryway as though they thought someone may be lurking at the corners, then pulled off their hood and smoothed the neat braid behind their head.  A shy smile crossed their face, but they buried their hands in the pockets of their coat.  

“Sorry I’m late,” Velim nodded into the meadow so that Gale fell into step beside them, “not really my neighborhood.”

“That just puts us back on even footing,” Gale smiled back to put them at ease.

“Yes, well, it’s my own fault for leaving on time.  I should have prepared to get lost,” they pulled a gloved hand out of their pocket to run their finger over the water condensing on the arched railing of a bridge crossing a creek.

“I didn’t take you for one to lose your way.” Gale inhaled the wet autumn day as they stepped onto a path between the trees covered in the leaves falling gold from the ginkgo trees above them.

Velim’s eyes turned toward the canopy.  “I contain multitudes, including a chronic inability to read maps.”

Gale offered his hand as they climbed a steep stone staircase, but Velim kept their hands in their pockets and he pulled it away.  “You must travel with a companion, then?”

They shook their head.  “I find my way regardless.  Would you like some lunch?  My treat.”

“That’s not necessary,” Gale said.

“Nonsense, let me buy you lunch.  I just got the advance for my next publication, something to work the chill out of my hands is hardly going to break my finances, and I was late this time,” Velim insisted.

“Is that so?  Which publication?” Gale asked, “something grand?”

“Not my contribution,” their fingers brushed the fine hairs on the underside of a cherry-red leaf and read the stone with the name of the plant engraved upon it, sanddusk creeper, “but the copper etched illustrations, well, those are quite grand.  It’s a textbook documenting the physiological impacts of magic mediated illness.”

The memory of a wizard Gale once knew flashed before his eyes, the skin of his face melting due to a backfiring healing spell intended to clear his acne.  “Are you an expert in such things?”

“No,” they paused and looked over the side of the pond where bright orange fish swarmed at the banks, begging them for food, “well, perhaps I am now.  I was selected as the ghost writer, each article is informed by the true experts of the individual ailments.  The only magical ailment I’m intimately familiar with is invoked hyperplasia.”

“Because the only intervention is surgical, yes, I have no doubt you would be,” his face tightened with concern, the memory of his school friend stuck in his mind, “a terrible condition indeed.”

“People have difficulty wrapping their mind around healing invocations,” Velim began, each word considered before being voiced, “they see a wound close, and believe they’re seeing some process reverse bodily damage when the truth of the matter is that the invocation is a calling forth of cellular regeneration.  A less-than-precise use of such a spell leads the body into devouring itself to feed whatever retains a splinter of the invocation,” they sighed, “forgive me, I see it so often that I find its continued prevalence exhausting.  Were you ever a student here?”

“I spent a great deal of time as a joint researcher between the archaeology department and the Blackstaff Research Institute, but, no, I was always destined for Blackstaff’s program.  In fact, an old colleague of mine in the archaeology department was the first person to show me this,” he gestured to the turning leaves above them, catching the mist and releasing it as heavy droplets, “I’m sure she’s industrious as ever in Baldur’s Gate, but I do miss her.  She makes a brilliant collaborator.”

“Always a shame when a great researcher moves out of reach,” Velim looked above them and watched droplets slide off a dome of magic above themself and Gale.  When had he cast that spell?  Now that they were paying attention, they could feel the threads leading back to him.  Effortless.  A small voice in the back of their mind wondered if he might teach them such a thing, “you’re quite skilled.”

Gale followed their gaze to the shield above them as the rain finally reached them from the sea in a soft patter on the leaves.  “What, that trick?”

Velim couldn’t cast a shield spell with that ease -- not at all.  They had tried and splashed their apartment with acid.  “I didn’t see you cast it.”

“Are you at all familiar with the Arts?” Gale asked, admiring his own work as other walkers on the path scrambled for cover in the steadily intensifying rain.

Velim considered their answer, letting the pause drag on almost too long before responding.  “I learned only what kept me from discharging magic accidentally.”

Gale’s eyebrows rose.  “A sorcerer?”

They shoved their hands into their pockets again.  “Yes, but I couldn’t tell you from what source.”

A flush rose to Gale’s cheeks, turning them redder than the flush that cold already brought to his face.  “My apologies, I don’t mean to suggest -- well, I’ve met many sorcerers with less intellectual acumen, if you’d allow me a modicum of judgment.”

Velim smirked at him, but their hands remained firmly in their pockets.  “The best of us don’t attend arcane academies.”  Including themself in that number felt wrong, but Gale was too distracted by his own embarrassment to notice the bitterness in their expression was directed at themself.

“Neither of your parents were gifted?” Gale recovered.  The shield above them never wavered.

“I can’t say, I don’t know them.” Velim waited for Gale to press further.

Gale shuffled his feet through the fallen leaves.  “I see.  I’m sorry for your loss.  I lost my father before I could remember, myself.  Do you mind if I ask how it happened?”

The time he wasted on apologies gave Velim time to set the pieces of their story in order.  “I’m not sure if they’re dead,” they watched Gale’s face change in surprise, “I fell from the roof of a building when I was 14, took on a severe head trauma.  I can’t recall anything before waking up in a surgery in the middle of a quarantine for fever.  I couldn’t leave, and I had no way to tell anyone who I was or where I came from, so I began my apprenticeship as a surgeon as soon as I had hands that worked.”

“And they never came looking for you?” Gale pressed.

Velim shrugged, unwilling to twist any more of their past into something fit for consumption.  “When you were working on that joint committee with your colleague, were you looking to investigate that site you mentioned in the Silver Marches?  The one involved with the Ortenkus story?”

“The project was intended to map the annual travels of each known enclave in Netheril based on historical accounts and traces of weave modified by the passage of the mythallars.  No time for old Ortenkus, I’m afraid,” he turned, the grin of a teacher about to drop some semi-secret knowledge on his student forming at the corners of his mouth, “The towns that dot the Silver Marches now, you know they follow the paths of weave left by the mythallars?  The very roads of northern Faerun follow those ancient cities.”

Velim returned his smile.  “I did not know that.  Did the mythallars raise the earth out of the swamp, or is there something further at play there?  It seemed nigh-impassable to me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Gale trailed off when he noticed Velim wasn’t looking at him anymore, their gaze following a pair of arguing voices obscured by foliage, “probably just a lover’s spat.”

Velim cocked their head to one side.  “Probably,” they echoed.

“Are you worried about someone seeing us together?” Gale’s voice dropped, hoping the worry that the time they spent together may be complicated by their inescapable pasts came out as concern for their well-being.

They shook their head.  “No, not at all,” and turned to him, “just an old habit.  Few folks like seeing a Vulture in their village.  You learn to watch for people about to make a bad decision.”

Gale’s posture loosened.  “I see, and those two are about to make a poor decision, in your estimations?”

Velim glanced through the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of the arguing pair.  “Maybe.  Shall we find somewhere dry for lunch?”

“Sounds like a fine idea, this way.” Gale led them down a path that cut between the trunks of two thick maples twined together through some feat of magic or botany.

Velim hesitated at the path’s start, but jogged to catch up before Gale noticed the delay and they got caught in the rain without the shield spell for an umbrella.

“I have something to ask you, and you may feel that it’s coming on a bit strong, but I assure you that my intentions are purely platonic,” Gale waited for Velim to match his stride before continuing, “do you have plans for Liar’s Night this year?”

“None I couldn’t be persuaded to change, though I will be walking with the rest of the Vultures in the parade,” the path narrowed and Velim bumped Gale with their shoulder, “Are you in need of a plus-one for a party of preeminent citizens?”

“No -- well, yes.  Blackstaff Tower holds a Liar’s Masquerade annually.  Normally I would attend alone, but with my extended absence I thought I might benefit from some company this year.  Of course, if you aren’t comfortable with such a thing you need only say the word and I will not mention it again.”  Gale leaned into their weight, following Velim when the path widened again and they pulled away.

Velim kicked through a pile of wet leaves before responding.  “I find it difficult to believe you’ve never taken a guest.”

“Well, I was never alone, I simply arrived alone,” Gale waved the notion off, but his face grew redder, “I once had a full dance card.  It’s only that after a full year of absence, the things that once were easy are no longer.”

“I’d be happy to accompany you, of course,” Velim assured him, “you’ve never brought a date?  Truly?”

“Not for any lack of experience.” He pulled the collar of his coat up.

“Happy to be your first, then,” Velim shot him a crooked smile that sent feathers fluttering through his stomach, their teeth sharper in the expression, “I’m sure I’ll make some poor soul terribly jealous.  Should we plan to match, or let the cards fall where they may in terms of dress?”

Gale feigned a cough to keep his voice from cracking.  “No time to draft up something new, we may as well don the costumes of yesteryear.  I expected more resistance to the idea.”

“Oh, no, I adore a masked party,” Velim buried their hands deeper in their pockets, but their step skipped ahead and stretched the shield that now carried them both beneath a curtain of rain, “They make for good people watching.  I only warn you that I can’t dance.”

“I’m not exactly in the practice of it myself,” Gale ran a hand through his hair and breathed in the smell of wet earth as they approached a covered walkway with scattered food carts meant to feed the students and staff of the university, “I’ll survive a crushed toe or two, should we find ourselves in a dancing mood.  I wouldn’t have thought you the type for parties.”

“Then you thought right,” Velim admitted, walking ahead of him and into the cover of the walkway where the smell of cooking meat swelled beneath the roof, “but variety is the spice of life, is it not?  And I’ve never been to Blackstaff Tower, you might show me around.”

The rain continued falling over the botanical gardens long after both their bowls were empty and replaced in the bin of used dishes beside the noodle cart.  Velim leaned on the railing separating the walkway from the cobblestone paths of the garden and watched the rain slide off the roof in thick rivulets.  Gale leaned against the column beside them.

“Quite the day for a walk in the garden,” Velim glanced sideways at Gale, “I’m tempted to ask you to walk me home with that shield spell of yours.”

“I would be honored,” Gale said with a little bow, “shall we take the path through the trees?”

Velim watched Gale as they stepped out into the rain together, the deluge parting.  Gale glanced back at them back with a sly glint in his eye.  They didn’t notice so much as a twitch of his fingers, and realized he had never dropped his concentration.  

They came under cover of the trees, and Gale stumbled on the uneven path.  His knees buckled as the orb spasmed in his chest.  Velim caught his elbow, his weight dropping them both for a sickening second before Velim pulled him upright.  They searched his face for the ailment, noting the pinch of pain at his temples and corners of his eyes, one hand firm on his arm to hold him steady and the other bracing their shoulder against his weight.  Gale blinked hard, his mouth opening in silent apology.  Velim dragged him to a bench and sat him down.  The chilled rainwater soaking into his coat fought the tearing sensation radiating through his chest, the orb grasping frantically for Velim’s hand on his arm.  He pulled away.  

Velim sat on the bench beside him a few inches apart, hands back in their pockets.  They waited for his back to ease out of its tense arch, his hand massaging his chest as he sat back against the bench and let the chill slip over him as raindrops fell fat and heavy against his skin.  He spoke the word and circled his fingers in the air and the shield reappeared above them.

“Has this happened before?” Velim asked.

Gale took a deep breath, his lungs straining against the pressure of the orb.  “Yes, occasionally.  It’s no trouble, really, I’m sorry to bother you with it.”

“Rain check on walking me home,” Velim joked, their bedside manner slipping into place, “have you seen a doctor about it?”

“Yes,” the affirmative was always the correct answer, “nothing for it, I’m afraid.”

“How long do these episodes typically last?” Velim ran down their list of questions, filtering the ones that seemed too personal for a concerned exchange between friends, “and do you have something to take for them?”

“Not long,” Gale’s voice wavered, “but I’m afraid I do not have the medicine on my person.”

Velim searched his face for something and Gale thought with a jolt that they knew he was lying to them until they blinked and glanced at the mosaic of leaves dotting the path.

“Very well,” they conceded, “when you’re ready, allow me to hail you a cab.”

Gale thought to deny the offer, but he knew it was a command and not a request.  He dragged the last moments out, watching the rain cascading over the shield spell and turning the world into a watery smear of red and gold.  “Shall we?”

Gale stood up before Velim could offer their hand, so they kept their hands where they were and matched his slow pace.  Their footsteps were drowned out by the rain and puddles were beginning to form in the low points of the walkways.

“My apologies for cutting our time short,” Gale said once the pressure in his chest eased down to a flutter, “I did very much enjoy it.  Don’t think my outburst is in any way related to a lack of desire to see you home safely.  Please.”

“I also enjoyed it,” Velim assured him as they entered the courtyard at the entry, the dead stalks of wildflowers giving off the aroma of sodden hay, “and I imagine I’ll enjoy the Liar’s Masquerade just as much, but promise you’ll get some rest and see your doctor again before the event.”

“I promise.” The orb pulsed hotly around a tightening in his chest.

They arrived at the street and Velim flagged down a carriage.  They pulled up their hood and saw him safely inside the covered cab, then tried to offer the driver payment.

“No, no,” Gale pushed a few nibs into the driver’s open palm, “not after you bought lunch.”

Velim put their change back in their pockets.  “I’ll see you on Lair’s Night, Gale.”

“You will.  I promise you, you will.” Gale sat back in the cab as the driver kicked the horse into gear.  He massaged his chest, the faint black lines of the mark pulsing as molten metal beneath the surface of his skin all the way up to his eye where his vision blurred with each hard beat of his heart.

The shield spell vanished with Gale, and the rain resumed falling on the oiled leather of Velim’s duster in a way that pressed the cold into their skin through the waxed seams.  They waited for the carriage to turn out of sight to begin walking, scolding themself for offering to let Gale walk them home in the first place.  A foolish idea, and something they should never have considered extending to someone who knew them not at all.

Without the shield, the cold crept into their shirt and pulled the scars on their chest taut.  They rubbed along the line of them, from sternum to clavicle on each side, smoothing the scales and soothing the prickling scar tissue beneath.  Their shoulder ached where the muscles had strained against Gale’s weight.